Neighbour

[ 6 ].

After König has done his utmost to soothe your frenzied state, he gently ushers you into the bedroom. With a gentle push, he makes you lie down before wrapping you in a mountain of blankets. Then he disappears into the bathroom because he still needs to take a shower and wash all the dirt and grime off his body.

During this interlude of solitude, you attempt to corral your frenetic thoughts, which are galloping through your mind at a frantic pace. The relentless racing of your thoughts intensifies the throbbing in your head. Your eyes are puffy and bloodshot. Strands of your hair cling to your damp cheeks. But, at least your sobbing has ceased, and your tears have evaporated, leaving behind only their salty residue.

The silence that cloaks the room, like a comforting shroud, begins to massage your nerves, unknotting the taut tension in your shoulders. It's as if an oppressive weight is slowly being lifted, and the waves of stress and anxiety are receding.

Everything that happened—days filled with worry, nights marred by a lack of sleep, the conversation with König—now seems just like a distant, bad dream. A nightmare that you've just woken up from.

Surprisingly, when you accused König of cheating, the argument did not escalate into a full-blown fight. Despite the tension and your skepticism, he was able to persuade you that there's nothing going on between him and Sarah. He confessed that there might have been times where their interactions could have been misconstrued as flirtatious, but he assured you that his relationship with her remained strictly professional. König made it clear—she isn't his type, and he has absolutely no intention of jeopardizing the relationship that he has built with you over the past two years just because some woman happened to bat her lashes at him.

When you asked why he keeps entertaining her presence, why he doesn't outright reject her advances, his response was that he simply couldn't afford to ignore her. He revealed that the higher-ups had grown suspicious of Sarah, likely due to her recent transfer. Their tendency to scrutinize everyone and everything, as if looking through a magnifying glass, had led them to task König with the responsibility of monitoring her activities. This was an assignment he had initially desired to refuse. However, his resistance was eventually chipped away by the promise of additional compensation for his efforts.

"And I need that money—" His statement caused your eyebrows to knit together in confusion. After all, his current income was more than sufficient. "I'm saving it for something."

His cryptic response only ignited your confusion, like a spark in dry tinder. When you probed, he only offered a shake of his head. A faint smile tugged at the corner of his lips. He planted a kiss on your forehead, and said, "Can't tell yet."

You trust König, and you want to believe him and everything he's told you. However, after your mind refuses to quiet down, you get out of bed. As your bare feet touch the cool floor, a shiver slithers down your spine. You kneel down in front of König's duffel bag, which he has thrown down by the wardrobe. After rummaging through the pockets, you pull out his phone.

Deep down, you know there is something you need to do, something crucial, before you can forget about all of this, before you can lay your doubts to rest.

The soft hum of the shower from the bathroom abruptly ceases. Your eyes dart to the closed door as you freeze in place. You strain your ears, listening for the telltale sound of footsteps, but there is none. You know you can't let König find you snooping through his phone again. So, with your heart pounding in your chest, when he doesn't come into the room, your attention returns to the phone in your hands. You enter his passcode and unlock it.

Your mind is consumed, fully focused on one task: checking for any new text messages from Sarah. Every ounce of your being needs to know, to confirm, if he and Sarah had been in any form of contact while he was away. Your eyes hungrily skim through all the conversations, the old ones, and the recent ones. But after what seems like an eternity, you come to a heart-wrenching realization. The entire conversation thread between him and Sarah, every single exchange, has vanished. He has scrubbed his phone clean, like a crime scene, meticulously wiped of any incriminating evidence.