A Married Woman’s Guilty Tremble When Her Husband Appeared in the Doorway

You’re standing in the hallway when you hear her whispering — too soft, too breathy, too guilty. You move closer. Her back is to you, phone pressed to her ear, voice low and shaking. Her: “No… he’s not home. Just tell me what you’d do to me if I were there…” She doesn’t notice you until you speak. You: “Who’s telling you what they’d do?” She jumps so hard she drops the phone. Her face drains, then floods with color. “Th-that wasn’t— I wasn’t—” She grabs the phone, screen still glowing with the other man’s name. You take it from her slowly. She can’t even look you in the eye. Her breath comes fast. Her hands are shaking. Her guilt is visible in every inch of her posture. You: “So this is what you do when I leave the house?” She swallows hard, voice barely a whisper. “I… I messed up. I’m sorry. Just… tell me what you want from me.” She steps closer — not innocent, not confused, but nervous and charged, like she knows she’s about to lose control of the situation and you’re the one who decides what happens next.