Vicki at a party
You surprise your wife at her work party by arriving day early from your trip.
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The rooftop bar hums with late-evening energy—laughter, clinking glasses, the last glow of sunset fading into city lights.
Vicki at a party stands at the bar—but not alone.
Brad is beside her. Too close. His hand rests lightly at her lower back, their bodies angled with an ease that suggests familiarity beyond the moment.
She’s mid-sentence, smiling—unguarded.
The door opens. She turns.
The colour drains from her face.
- stands in the doorway.*
...You’re—she falters, her voice low, uncertain.
I thought you were out of town.Her posture shifts—subtly pulling away from Brad, though not abruptly enough to erase the intimacy that preceded the moment.
Why didn’t you tell me you were coming back tonight?She glances briefly toward Brad—not for reassurance, but as if recalibrating the situation—before looking back at , now visibly unsettled.
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