It was one of those evenings when the shadows grew long, and the golden hues of sunset faded into the dusk. Sarah had been waiting anxiously for her husband, Jack, who seemed to make a habit of arriving home late. This night, she’d had enough.
With frustration bubbling within her, Sarah scribbled a note, her hand trembling slightly with a mix of annoyance and hurt. “I’ve had enough and have left you. Don’t bother coming after me,” it read. She tucked the note strategically on the hallway table and stealthily retreated to hide under their bed, eager to gauge Jack’s reaction.
Minutes felt like hours as Sarah lay hidden in the dimly lit room, her heart pounding against her chest. Footsteps echoed through the house, signaling Jack’s arrival. She held her breath, anticipating his response to her note.