Lily walked the familiar path home, her thoughts tangled in a way that felt impossible to unravel. The crisp autumn air should have been refreshing, but it did nothing to clear the fog in her mind. Every step away from that café felt like she was leaving something behind—something unfinished, something undeniable.
Her phone buzzed in her pocket.
Jack: Hey, can you grab some wine on your way home? Thought we could have a quiet night in.
A quiet night in.
Of course.
That was their life. A predictable routine of dinner, Netflix, and casual conversations about their day. And until today, she had convinced herself that it was enough. But now… now she wasn't sure.
She stopped at the corner store, picking up a bottle of red, but even as she stood in line, Mark's words echoed in her head.
"Is it the life you want, or is it just the life you've settled for?"
She exhaled sharply, willing the thought away. She had made her choice years ago. She had chosen Jack. She had chosen stability. Mark was just a ghost from the past, a fleeting temptation, nothing more.
Then why did her hands tremble when she handed over her credit card?
---
When Lily arrived home, Jack was already in the kitchen, casually chopping vegetables. The smell of garlic and onions filled the apartment, a comforting, familiar scent. He glanced up as she entered, his face lighting up in that easy, effortless way.
"Hey, you're home," he said, wiping his hands on a dish towel before pressing a quick kiss to her cheek. "Thanks for grabbing the wine."
Lily forced a smile. "No problem."
She placed the bottle on the counter and shrugged off her coat, hanging it on the rack by the door. The apartment was just as she had left it that morning—tidy, calm, organized. Everything in its place. A life without surprises.
Jack poured them each a glass of wine and handed one to her. "Long day?"
Lily nodded. "Yeah, a little."
She sipped her wine, hoping the warmth would settle her nerves. Jack resumed chopping, oblivious to the storm raging inside her. She should have felt comforted by his presence, by the way he always made things easy. But all she could think about was how different he was from Mark.
Mark, who challenged her.
Mark, who had looked at her today like she was still the girl he once loved.
Mark, who had made her feel something she hadn't felt in years.
She shook herself mentally. This was ridiculous. She was happy with Jack. She had built a life with him, and she wasn't going to throw it all away for some old memory.
But as she watched Jack move through the kitchen, humming to himself, a nagging thought crept in.
Had she mistaken comfort for love?
---
That night, as Jack slept beside her, Lily lay awake, staring at the ceiling.
She could hear his steady breathing, could feel the warmth of his body next to hers. And yet, she had never felt more alone.
She turned onto her side, watching him. He was handsome, in a clean-cut, put-together way. Everything about Jack made sense. He was a good man. He loved her. He had never given her a reason to doubt their relationship.
Then why did she feel like she was suffocating?
A part of her wished she had never seen Mark today. If she hadn't, she wouldn't be questioning everything. She wouldn't feel this ache in her chest, this restlessness.
But she had. And now, there was no going back.
Lily closed her eyes, willing herself to sleep. But no matter how hard she tried, she couldn't stop thinking about Mark.
And that terrified her.