Tuesday night

The house settles. Alexis retires to the guest room, likely to scroll through her own memories of the day. Chloe and Jessica are in Chloe's room, the door locked, the silence from within suggesting a state of satisfied exhaustion. Kenzie is in her room, her pencil flying across a fresh page, trying to capture the violet-eyed shadow she saw in the mirror.

Tyler is hunched over his terminal. The blue light of the screen reflects off his glasses as he begins to deconstruct the flicker he saw in the attic mirror. He isn't looking for porn; he’s looking for the frequency of surrender.

In the Master Bedroom, the "Sentinel" is attempting to reclaim his territory that he doesn't know he lost. Chad is feeling amorous, buoyed by a good day at work and the sight of his wife looking so flushed and vibrant.

Cherie meets him with a ****, frantic energy. She pulls him into the bed, her movements more aggressive than usual. She needs to feel the weight of her husband, to feel his touch, to prove to the nagging voice in her head that she is still "The Faithful Wife."

Yes. This is real. Chad is real. This is my bed, my husband, my life. I’m not the woman on the pool deck. I am Cherie White, and I am being loved by my husband. See, Mack? See? I’m still here. I’m still his.

The funny thing is, you both know she's lying. She isn't proving her faithfulness; she is merely providing the friction required to power the house for another day.

You hover near the ceiling, feeling the essence flow into you as they move beneath the sheets. Every time Cherie closes her eyes and accidentally envisions Mike’s hands or your violet gaze while she’s with Chad, the "Faithful" energy she’s trying to generate is instantly converted into a feast for you. The similarities between her current doggystyle position and the downward dog yoga position from earlier today pretty much guarantees that she continues to think about it.