Third person's POV.
The heavy silence in the room was a familiar companion to Steve. For years, he had been in this room, in this bed, with his back to the door as the clock ticked past nine. The sound of a soft knock and the creak of the door were as much a part of his nightly routine as breathing.
Then came her voice, a gentle murmur that had been the last sound he heard before sleep for a quarter of a century.
“Good night, Steve.” But tonight was different. Tonight, the silence that followed her words didn't settle in. Instead, Steve slowly turned over. The bedsprings groaned under his weight, a sound that seemed deafening in the stillness.
Marilyn froze in the doorway, her hand still resting on the doorknob. Her heart hammered against her ribs, a frantic drum against the sudden c
