He sat for a second longer than he needed to, fingers still curled around the handle of his suitcase, like letting go of it would make the last two weeks feel less real.
A honeymoon that wasn’t supposed to feel like an escape—but somehow did anyway.
He stepped out, looked up at the house, and smiled.
Same porch light. Same crooked mailbox. Same quiet street.
Home.
He reached into his pocket for the key.
Nothing.
He frowned, patted his other pocket. Then the inside pocket of his jacket. Then his jeans.
Empty.
A slow, confused laugh slipped out of him.
“Don’t tell me…” he muttered.
He dropped his suitcase on the driveway, knelt slightly, and checked under the doormat out of habit.
No key.
He straightened, now fully alert. Walked to the door. Tried the handle.
Locked.
He rang the bell.
Once.
Twice.
Silence.
He leaned closer, peering through the glass pane. The hallway looked exactly as he remembered—too tidy, almost staged.
He knocked.
“Hello?” he called, half expecting his wife to appear with a grin, pretending this was some elaborate welcome-home prank.
Nothing.
He took a step back, pulled out his phone, and called her.
It rang.
And rang.
Then went to voicemail.
He tried again.
Same result.
A faint unease crept in—not panic yet, just the uncomfortable feeling of being excluded from something that was supposed to belong to him.
He walked around the house, checking windows. All shut. Curtains drawn in places they shouldn’t have been.
At the back door, he noticed something that made him stop.
The spare key box.
It was gone.
Not broken. Not open.
Gone.
He stared at the empty patch of wall where it used to be, a slow realization forming in his chest that had nothing to do with jet lag.
Then he saw the small envelope taped neatly to the glass of the back door.
His name on it.
Her handwriting.
He tore it open.
Inside, a single note.
“Welcome home. We need to talk before you come in.”
He looked at the house again.
The lights were on.
Somewhere inside, a shadow moved past a window.
And for the first time since he stepped out of the taxi, he wasn’t sure he was actually expected inside anymore.
