Ntr Nightmare -

She squeezed her eyes shut, but the dream’s projector kept rolling. Now she was in the living room. Mark stood by the window, his back to her, phone in hand. The glow lit his face in sickly blue. He was scrolling through photos. Photos she recognized. Her own phone’s gallery, but the shots were wrong. Angles she never took. Her laughing at a bar she’d never been to. Her hand resting on a knee that wasn’t Mark’s. Her lips parted in the passenger seat of a car she didn’t own.

The dream always started the same way: with the front door clicking shut. ntr nightmare

Lena sat up in bed, the cold sheet beside her a dead weight. Mark’s side. Empty. Again. The digital clock on the nightstand bled red numbers: 3:17 AM. Through the thin apartment walls, she heard the muffled thud of the building’s stairwell door. Footsteps. Too light for Mark’s heavy tread. She squeezed her eyes shut, but the dream’s

Downstairs, the building’s front door clicked shut. The glow lit his face in sickly blue

She woke gasping, drenched in sweat. The clock said 3:18 AM. Beside her, Mark slept soundly, his chest rising and falling in slow rhythm. She reached out, fingertips brushing his arm. He didn’t stir.

“There is no one,” she sobbed.