This wasn’t who he was.
Marcus Thorne had always been the reasonable one.
The calm one.
The man who believed in talking things through.
But something had broken tonight.
And he didn’t want to fix it.
His phone buzzed again.
“Elena: Don’t be dramatic.”
He let out a quiet, humorless laugh.
Dramatic.
After months of late nights.
After the receipts from restaurants they had never been to together.
After the new perfume.
After the way she angled her phone away from him.
After all of that…
He was the one being dramatic.
He didn’t reply.
Jake arrived twenty minutes later.
He took one look at Marcus and said nothing.
They drove to the hardware store in silence.
Bought new locks.
Returned and got to work.
The sound of metal clicking into place echoed through the house.
Something old being removed.
Something final being set.
At 10:23 p.m., Elena came home.
Marcus heard her car pull into the driveway.
Her footsteps approached the door.
Keys jingled.
The lock turned—
Or tried to.
Then again.
And again.
Confusion.
The doorbell rang.
Once.
Twice.
Then rapidly.
“Marcus! Open the door!”
