Oliver staggered house late.
Very late.
He had fallen someplace alongside the best way.
Didn’t bear in mind the place.
However positively felt it.
Within the rest room, he checked the injury.
A scrape.
Not horrible.
However noticeable.
He seemed on the mirror.
Paused.
Thought.
Fastidiously, very rigorously…
he cleaned the wound.
Utilized antiseptic.
Added bandages.
He nodded at his reflection.
Downside solved.
His spouse, Sophie, was asleep.
Good.
Disaster averted.
He slipped into mattress quietly.
Smiling.
Morning got here.
Sophie was already awake.
Standing within the rest room.
Silent.
Too silent.
Oliver stretched.
Pretended every little thing was regular.
“What’s improper?” he requested.
Sophie didn’t flip round.
“Did you get drunk final night time?”
Oliver laughed.
Too quick.
“No.”
Pause.
Sophie slowly turned.
“Actually?”
Oliver nodded.
Assured.
“Then…” she stated,
“…who cleaned the wound…”
Pause.
“…on the mirror?”
Silence.
Oliver blinked.
Sophie crossed her arms.
“As a result of,” she added calmly,
“somebody disinfected and bandaged the cupboard door.”
Lengthy silence.
Oliver seemed towards the toilet.
Nonetheless pleased with himself.
Simply… much less sure.
