The moment I caught that same decaying stench from her body again, I froze for a second.
She passed by me casually, but the smell lingered like a reminder, like a whisper in my ear that wouldn't shut up.
Without a word, she headed straight to the bathroom.
Maybe she realized it too. The smell was stronger today—heavier—undeniably noticeable.
I stood there for a moment, stuck in my place, a part of me wanting to follow her and ask again, but the other part held me back.
She had already given her reason: she went to pick up medicines, that's why it took longer. It should be enough.
Trust her. Don't create another scene. Let it go this time.
I reminded myself of the chaos last time and how I had promised not to let my paranoia ruin everything again.
When she stepped out of the bath, wrapped in a towel and freshly cleaned, I took a deep breath—not just because the smell was gone but because I needed to be calm. Lunch was already on the table, and I took it upon myself to set it up nicely. As she approached, I welcomed her with a light smile.
"You must be hungry."
She looked a little surprised, probably expecting another round of questions or suspicion. But there was none. Not today.
We sat down and ate together peacefully. For the first time in days, it felt normal again. No tension in the air. No hidden looks. Just two people having lunch.
She went for a nap after that. I finished the rest of my work, cleared my mind a bit, and then decided to step out for some air. The medicines had started working, I guess—my head wasn't as clouded as before. There was clarity, and I wanted to enjoy that while it lasted.
Even though we'd been here for a few weeks, I still wasn't too familiar with the locality. As I walked through a narrow lane, I saw an elderly man—probably in his 50s—struggling to carry some heavy bags. I offered to help him, and after a slight hesitation, he accepted.
We walked together toward his house. The conversation started casually—where I lived, how long I'd been around, and so on. He seemed like a decent man. No weird looks. No uncomfortable silences. No strange energy. Just a regular old resident of this place.
At one point, I ended up opening up about how I sometimes felt out of place here.
He chuckled, agreeing wholeheartedly. "That's true. People here can be shameless."
"But not everyone," I added. "I've met a few decent ones too… like you. And the medical shop guy, Ray. He's a nice guy."
The change in his expression was instant.
His eyes widened, his body stiffened, and for a moment, it felt like I'd just confessed something illegal.
He didn't say anything. Just took his bags from me—forcefully—and muttered that I should get going.
I was thrown off. I asked him if everything was alright, told him I didn't understand the sudden shift. Maybe I said something wrong?
He paused. Looked me in the eye. And in a lowered voice said,
"I'm only saying this based on your reaction… you just got to know him. But be careful around Ray. That man… he has a twisted personality. Stay away from him, if you care for yourself—and your family."
Then he turned and walked away.
I stood there, speechless.
Twisted personality?
Was he serious? That calm, polite, humble Ray? The same guy who always smiled and gave friendly advice?
This man must be mistaken. Or maybe talking about someone else.
But… what if he wasn't?
What if there really was something off about Ray? I remembered how different he felt that day he came to our house. The smile was the same… but the vibe wasn't.
This entire place was beginning to feel like a twisted puzzle where every piece looked right until you looked too closely.
Confused and lost in thought, I made my way back home.
When I opened the door, I saw my wife sitting on the couch, watching a program on TV. She looked calm. At ease. She smiled and patted the seat next to her.
I sat down beside her and melted into her warmth. We watched quietly, cuddled up against each other. I let myself enjoy the moment, deciding to shelve the disturbing thoughts for another time.
Right now, I needed to just be here—with her. Everything else could wait.