Evidence

Emma found the hair wrapped around her pillowcase—long, dark, unlike her own strawberry blonde crop that she'd chopped off last month during what Marcus had called 'an emotional quarter-life crisis.' The strand gleamed under morning light,undeniable as a marriage proposal.

She padded to the kitchen where Marcus stood at the counter, his back to her, measuring something into a blender. A new bottle of vitamin D sat beside the usual protein powder—his dermatologist had recommended it for 'winter mood,' he'd said, though it was May and his mood seemed suspiciously buoyant lately. Whistling.

'You're up early,' he said, not turning. The iPhone on the counter lit up with a notification. Someone named 'Sam' had sent a heart emoji.

Emma's stomach hollowed. 'Couldn't sleep.' She filled a glass from the filtered water tap, watched the clear liquid swirl. 'Marcus, whose hair is this?'

The blender stopped. He turned slowly, and she saw it—the way his eyes darted left, the microsecond hesitation before he smiled. 'What hair, babe?'

She held up the strand.

'Oh,' he said. 'Probably just—I don't know. Maybe from when your sister visited?'

'Marcus. Zoe has a pixie cut.'

The water glass trembled in her hand. His iPhone lit up again—same name, another heart. He didn't even check it. Didn't have to.

'Sit down,' he said quietly.

She didn't. Instead she walked to the sink, poured the water down the drain. Watched it spiral away like all the time she'd never get back. All the vitamins in the world couldn't fix this.