Chapter 3: The Secret Affair

My days blurred into each other. The only thing that felt real was the world behind the wall. Hank and Natalie moved through my field of vision on schedule, like actors in a never-ending projection.

My own life shrank to the size of that peephole. I started skipping errands, letting emails pile up, ignoring texts from my mom. The rest of the world faded into background noise.

But gradually, I noticed something off. They barely talked. Hank left early, came home late, working hard at the diner, but the silence between them was thick. Natalie never refused him, but her eyes always seemed somewhere else. With Natalie’s looks, she could’ve had anyone, but somehow she ended up with Hank. I kept wondering: how did he marry her? Could I ever be that lucky?

The question gnawed at me, especially on those lonely nights when the apartment felt too big and my own life felt too small.

One day, a soft door closing sound broke the monotony. It was only 5 p.m.—hours earlier than usual. My hand froze above my keyboard, heart pounding. I crept to the hole, my pulse in my ears.

Through the gap, I saw Natalie in the arms of a man in a button-down and shorts. He was thin and not particularly tall. Their body language was familiar and intimate.

“It’s a shame you quit. I spent a year looking for you,” the man said.

“I got married. I don’t want to do it anymore,” Natalie replied.

“You know I haven’t been with anyone since you left, right?” he said, starting to unbutton his shirt.

“I don’t believe you,” Natalie pouted, giving him a playful punch. “How could you stand it? Didn’t you suffocate?”

“I just want you.” He nudged her gently, and she fell back onto the bed.

A dozen minutes later, he took three hundred-dollar bills from his pocket, stuffed them under the pillow. “I don’t want you to come back—I just think no one else is worthy of you.”

Natalie didn’t refuse. She helped him get dressed, hugged him, kissed him, and saw him out.

After he left, a cold, crawling sensation settled in my stomach. I paced the room, unable to focus. I blasted music, tried to lose myself in a video game, but nothing drowned out what I’d seen. All the air seemed to leave the room at once.

Suddenly, everything made sense, and nothing did.