Back home, he opened her half-used wardrobe. A few shirts hung loosely, spaced strangely, as though he couldn’t remember what had been there yesterday. Some things felt familiar, others oddly out of place. He couldn’t tell if something was missing or if his mind was playing tricks owing to lack of sleep.
He shut the wardrobe with trembling hands. If she had left in a rush for another man or a secret rendezvous, then why leave these belongings? Unless she was planning to return… or unless something had stopped her. Had she been stopped from returning?