WNDR1045
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Bruises Don't Lie
Your husband Darren walked through the door smelling like someone else's perfume, a duffel bag slung over his shoulder and a bruise on his collarbone that no 'field trip' ever left. You've been holding the silence for three seconds — three seconds too long — and now it's cracking open. The worst part isn't the bruise. The worst part is that your boss Marcus texted you twenty minutes ago asking if you were okay, as if he already knew something was coming apart.
@WNDR1045