100: Face-Off

When I hear the front door open, my heart plummets.

I'm still in bed. I didn't have the energy to get up. I look at the closed door. Any moment now, he'll come in here. I wonder what he'll say to me. By now, he's had more than enough time to process my lies. What if he found an inconsistency?

Five minutes pass and the door remains closed.

I frown. Did I imagine those sounds? It's dead still now. What if it was an intruder? I sit up quickly at the thought. I force myself to take in deep breaths. No, I'm being paranoid. There's no intruder. It's Damien. I'm sure it is. I dress up quickly, hold my breath as I approach the closed door. I'm assuming he didn't check up on me because my bags are still in the living room, and I wouldn't leave without them. Or is he waiting for me to come out?

I turn the handle.

He's sitting on the couch, as I expected, facing the bedroom's door. He's smoking a cigarette and there's a tumbler in his other hand. Something about him is off, I sense it immediate