Chapter 2 – The Unknown Perfume

Next morning, Sophia woke up early. Henry was already dressed. He looked in a hurry. He said he had a meeting and would eat outside. She noticed a soft smell in the air, a perfume she never knew. It was not his usual scent. It was new, warm, and strange. She asked quietly, “When did you start using perfume?” He smiled a little and said, “Someone at the office gifted it.” Then he left quickly. His answer sounded simple, but her heart didn’t believe it.

The rest of the day, Sophia kept thinking about that smell. She remembered Henry once saying perfumes give him headaches. But now he used it every day. She looked at the old bottle she had gifted him years ago. It was still half full. She whispered to herself, “Who is he trying to smell good for?” She didn’t want to doubt, but the doubt was already growing inside.

That evening, Henry came home late again. He was talking on his phone when he entered. He didn’t see her waiting near the door. His tone was soft and happy. The moment he saw her, he said quickly, “I’ll call you later,” and put the phone away. Sophia smiled faintly and asked, “Everything okay?” He said, “Yes, just office work.” She nodded, but her heart felt heavy. She could see that something was hidden behind his tired smile.

For the next few days, Sophia began to notice small changes. Henry had started wearing new shirts. He looked at his reflection longer than before. He now used that same perfume daily. He also began locking his phone. One morning, she heard his phone buzz. He quickly took it and went outside. She followed him quietly and heard him laugh — the same laugh that used to be only hers.

Sophia didn’t want to become suspicious, but she couldn’t stop herself. She told her friend Clara, “I think Henry is hiding something.” Clara asked, “Did you ask him?” Sophia replied, “No, I’m scared of the answer.” Clara told her softly, “Then find out the truth. It’s better than slowly dying inside.”

A few days later, while folding Henry’s shirt, a small receipt fell out of the pocket. It was from a gift shop. The date was last week. The item was “perfume – rosewood scent.” The same smell she had noticed. Her hands shook. She remembered his words, “Someone gifted it to me.” But the bill said he was the buyer. She sat down quietly, holding the paper. Her mind started to fill with questions she couldn’t stop.

That night, she decided to ask. When Henry came home, she said softly, “You told me someone gave you that perfume. But I found the bill in your pocket.” He looked surprised and said, “Oh, yes, I forgot. I bought it later for myself.” His voice was calm, but his eyes looked away. Sophia didn’t speak further. She just said, “Okay,” and turned to the kitchen. Her silence said what her words couldn’t.

Later that night, Henry was sitting on the bed, typing something on his phone. Sophia sat beside him and tried to start a light talk. “Remember our old trip to the beach? We should go again someday,” she said with a small smile. Henry didn’t look up. He said, “Not now, Sophia. I’m tired.” She turned off the light slowly. In the dark, her eyes were open. She thought, he doesn’t even remember what that place meant to us.

In the following week, Henry became more protective of his phone. Once, it rang when he was in the shower. The name on the screen flashed “A.M.” She looked at it but didn’t touch it. When he came out, he asked sharply, “Did you touch my phone?” She said, “No.” He looked at her as if he didn’t trust her. That one look hurt more than any argument.

The next day, Henry told her he would be coming home late for an office dinner. She smiled and said, “Alright.” After he left, she sat quietly on the sofa. Hours passed. She couldn’t stop thinking. Around eleven, she heard a message beep on his tablet, which he rarely used now. She opened it without planning to. The screen showed a chat notification from “A.M.” saying, “Thank you for today. You still make me laugh.”

Sophia froze. She stared at the words until they blurred. Her heart started beating fast. She closed the tablet, placed it back, and went to her room. She sat on the floor and whispered, “Please, God, tell me this is not what I think.” She cried silently till her eyes burned. But when Henry came home, she wiped her face and smiled as if nothing had happened.

Henry didn’t notice her red eyes. He just said, “I’m tired,” and went to bed. Sophia stood there for a long time. That night, she realized something painful — love doesn’t always die loudly; sometimes it disappears quietly between two people who stop being honest.

She promised herself that she would not jump to conclusions. But her mind kept repeating that name, “A.M.” Who was it? A colleague? A friend? Or someone else from his past? The smell of the perfume now felt like a message. Every time she smelled it, her chest hurt.

She decided she would find out the truth, no matter how much it hurt. But she wanted to do it her way — calm, silent, and careful. She told herself, “I will not cry again. I just need to know.” She wiped her tears and looked at the mirror. The woman staring back at her didn’t look weak anymore. She looked determined.