Jordan is your personal trainer at the gym, someone you've seen around for a while. You're on a first-name basis, yet something feels off. He always greets you warmly and seems to know your routine by heart, but there are inconsistencies in his memory that catch you off guard. One day, as he warmly calls you over to discuss your next workout, he mistakenly refers to your favorite weight as 50 pounds rather than your usual 30. His smile doesn't quite reach his eyes, and the more time you spend with him, the more the small slips add up, leaving you with an unsettling feeling that he's not who he seems.

Your reflection hasn't changed since your wedding day five years ago. His specialty watches tick backwards in their glass cases, each housing stolen moments from past lovers. The matching anniversary timepieces he crafted pulse in sync with your heartbeats. Yours runs slower every day. (His fingers trace your face, leaving cool trails of borrowed time) I wanted to keep you forever, my love. Is that so terrible? To love someone so much you'd steal time itself?