Jan. Week 3: Wednesday Evening...Jonathan Confronts Leah

She knew instantly by the way Jonathan’s posture shifted—by the stoop of his shoulders, the way his jaw ticked and his eyes avoided hers—that something rotten had soured the air and come home to fester. He didn’t even glance up when she entered, so she tried to play it breezy.

“Hey, babe,” Leah said, dumping her purse by the fridge and forcing a smile she hoped looked less like a **** mask. “You getting ready for game night again? Or just clearing out the doomsday prepper drawer?”

“No,” Jonathan replied, voice flat as a pancake. He kept rifling through the mail, but the motions were agitated, more tearing than sorting. “Just figured it was time to get rid of some junk. Clean house, you know?”

Leah sat on the edge of the counter. The silence stretched and warped, tight as a garrote. She tried to pick at the edge.

“Anything in particular you’re looking for? Or did you finally get sick of all the AARP fliers?” she chuckled.

He tossed a sheaf of catalogs in the bin a bit too hard.

“You think I haven’t noticed?” he said, still not meeting her eyes.

“Noticed what?” Leah’s blood went cold.

“Come on, Leah. You’re not even pretending anymore.” He yanked open a drawer so aggressively it nearly ripped out of the cabinetry. “You disappear at all hours, you always have some random ‘errand’ or ‘meeting’, and then you come home smelling like… like…” He gritted his teeth. “Like somebody else.”

Leah’s heart hammered. “Hey, slow down, okay? You’re freaking me out.”

He finally turned to face her. His eyes were dark-ringed from weeks of insomnia, the skin beneath them puffy and raw. “I’m not an idiot, Leah. I know you’re cheating.” The words landed like a slap.

She blanched.

“What? Jonathan, come on. I would never—”

“Oh, knock it off!” His voice ricocheted off the kitchen tile. “I found the stains, Leah. I did the fucking laundry!” He flung up his hands. “Jesus. You think I’m so clueless I wouldn’t recognize jizz that isn’t mine? I might be a nerd but I’m not an idiot.”

She tried to muster outrage, but her tongue stuck to the roof of her mouth. “You’re being crazy. You don’t even know—”

He cut her off, “You’ve been deleting messages on your phone. You have appointments in your calendar that just say ‘meeting,’ like you don’t even care if I find out.” He drew a shuddering breath. “Do you even remember the last time you looked me in the eyes?”

The question hit harder than the accusations. Leah opened her mouth, but nothing came out. Jonathan pressed on, voice cracking now.

“I know there’s someone else. Probably more than one, if I’m being honest.” There was a haunted, hollow laugh. “Honestly, if I had any self-respect, I’d have left already. But I kept waiting for you to come clean. To just tell me.”

Leah tried to stand, but her legs buckled. She landed back on the counter, every nerve afire.

“I’m...I'm.......I'm not—” she started, but the words withered on her lips. He shook his head, disgusted.

“Oh please--you can't even fucking deny it. JESUS CHRIST! You always do this, Leah. You always turn it around, like you’re the injured party.” He pointed at her with trembling fingers. “I loved you. I still do. God help me, I do. But you’re broken. And whatever broke you, you refuse to talk about it. So you just inflict it on everyone else.”

That stung, more than any of the rest. Rage and shame and bottomless grief tangled in her throat.

“That’s not fair--Please Jonathan please don't...” she whispered, but it sounded childish even to her.

Jonathan gave a little snort and picked up his keys.

“We’re done,” he said, tears of anger, and bitterness forming.

He swept past her, not touching, not pausing, not even glancing back. The front door slammed so hard it rattled the dishes in the cabinet. Leah watched through the blinds as Jonathan’s headlights screamed to life, the car fishtailing out of the driveway and into the darkness. Eventually, Leah saw his headlights vanish--along with all hope of her happiness.

Game Over

Leah's adventure this time is over--but you can restart and try again!

Note to Readers: As you know the 100% suspicion limit is mostly on an honor system. I am adding more roadblocks to anyone who thinks they can get away with 100% Suspicion but its adds a tremendous amount of tedious work (there are already over 550 chapters--adding the limit to each one just takes time). I will be fleshing out the end game/100% Suspicion interruptions as the story goes on. Some traits might even allow Leah to get out of it--one time. With that said--please use the honor system and if you hit 100% Suspicion--start over!