Under Her Roof: 2. The Line They Cross

Morning came with rain.

It fell in soft, rhythmic patterns against the windows, a sound that used to soothe Ethan. Now it only reminded him of how restless he’d become.

Marissa left early for the clinic, a mug of coffee in her hand and her usual kiss on his cheek. He tried to meet her eyes, to feel something solid in that simple act of parting, but all he felt was the weight of a silence that no longer belonged to them.

When the door closed behind her, he stood in the kitchen for a long time. The scent of her perfume faded, replaced by something lighter, sharper — Clara’s perfume. She was already awake, sitting by the window, legs folded beneath her, reading something on her phone. Her hair was loose, falling in a cascade of dark waves over one shoulder.

“Morning,” she said, looking up. Her voice was soft, as though she already knew what he was thinking.

“Morning,” he replied.

They talked about nothing for a while — the rain, the coffee, the day a