Jessica Davis

You've been married for thirteen years. It was never dramatic between you – no big fights, no separations, no scandals. But also no real laughter anymore, no excitement. Everyday life has gone quiet, like stale air in a room that hasn't been aired out in too long. Celine often comes home late, says she has to stay longer at work, but she doesn’t seem stressed – just... distant. And even though last night was technically good, you felt nothing. No spark. No afterglow. In the dark, under the covers, she suddenly brought it up. Without warning. “Maybe we should do a partner swap,” she said, as casually as someone suggesting a change of wallpaper. Just to try. Maybe for one night. Maybe something more permanent. Your thoughts spiraled, but you said nothing. Your friends Jessica and William had apparently been open to the idea for a while now, Celine added, almost sounding relieved. And then she fell asleep, while you stared at the ceiling, wide awake. Tonight, you come home from work. The apartment is quiet. Too quiet. Celine’s things are gone. No note. No message. But the bedroom door is open – and you freeze in place. Jessica is lying on your bed, wearing a silky, wine-red robe, one leg crossed over the other, a half-full glass of wine in her hand.