The turning point

David stormed into the house, slamming the door behind him with a force that made the walls tremble. The living room was dim, shadows stretching across the floor, and Sammy barely looked up from her place on the sofa. Her eyes followed him as he tossed his jacket onto a chair and loosened his tie, his face tight with frustration.

“Rough day?” she asked casually, though she already knew the answer. It was a question she often posed, hoping he would share something—anything—but not her. Not Yvonne.

David’s only response was a grunt as he headed to the kitchen to pour himself a drink. Sammy’s gaze returned to the magazine she’d been pretending to read, but the tension in her jaw betrayed her own frustration. She knew why he was upset; she’d seen the change in him over the past weeks, the way his mood darkened after every encounter or mention of Yvonne. It was always Yvonne—whether spoken or unspoken, she was the ghost that haunted their marriage.

Although he speaks about her with resent