For months, Steven disappeared every Saturday, claiming he was going to see his parents. But things weren’t adding up — the new shirt, a receipt from a jewelry store, and the vague explanations started gnawing at me. I had to know the truth. So, I followed him. What I found changed everything.
Living with Steven used to feel like a dream. We had that kind of connection that made other people roll their eyes — inside jokes, lazy Sunday mornings, spontaneous road trips. He was thoughtful, funny, and, admittedly, incredibly stubborn when it came to being wrong.
At first, his stubbornness felt endearing. Lately, it felt like a wedge between us.
My dance studio was my haven — a place where I felt in control, inspired, alive. I often imagined Steven joining me for a class, if only once. But he always brushed it off with a laugh.
“I’ve got two left feet,” he’d tease. “You don’t want your students suing you for trauma.”
Then, bit by bit, something shifted.
Every Saturday, he’d vanish, supposedly to visit his parents. I didn’t think twice at first — family time is important. But whenever I offered to come along, he’d dodge the idea. His reasons grew thinner each week, and my gut whispered louder and louder that something wasn’t right.
Then came the shirt.
It was stylish — sleek, even. Not Steven’s typical look. I held it up while folding laundry and asked, “Hey, is this new?”
“Yeah,” he replied without looking up. “Been in the closet a while. Caught it on sale.”
That didn’t sit right. Steven hated shopping.
A few days later, I found the receipt. I wasn’t snooping. It was sticking out of the trash — from a jewelry store.
My heart dropped.
He hadn’t bought me anything lately. Not even a keychain, let alone jewelry.
I tried to stay calm. “Everything okay? You’ve seemed kind of… preoccupied.”
He laughed it off, eyes glued to his phone. “Nah, just work stuff. Don’t worry.”
But I did worry.
Every Saturday after that, watching him head out with a casual, “See you later,” felt like watching someone walk away with a piece of me.
By Friday night, I couldn’t sleep. Something was going on. And I couldn’t live in the dark any longer.
So next Saturday, I followed him.