Leaving The Repairman And My Wife Alone Was The Most Regretful Decision I Have Ever Made-9
The Locked Barrier
The bedroom door was locked! App status confirmed! How had that bastard entered? His movements were unnervingly swift. My thoughts churned chaotically. Call the police? Say what? A repairman entered my wife’s locked bedroom? Would they believe me? What if he was just… checking for leaks? The excuse rang hollow even to me. Sweat drenched my shirt. Agony stretched every second. I stared at the screen, at that damned, closed door.

The Exit
Horrific images flashed. My heart threatened to burst. How long passed? A minute? Five? The bedroom door opened—just a sliver! The figure in work pants slipped back out—swift, silent, ghostlike. *He was out!* Still quick. Still quiet. He stood in the hall, gently pushing the door shut tight. His eyes darted—scanning the hall, the living room. Assessing. Making sure he hadn’t been seen.

Planting Evidence
Then, he strode purposefully towards the living room, faster now, though still muted. He clutched something small! The light was tricky on camera—a dark little box? He headed straight for the TV stand! Where Emma kept her everyday jewelry box! My throat constricted. Without hesitation, he slid open the top drawer! Precise. Fast. Then—my blood ran cold—he dropped the dark box inside! A sharp, decisive flick of his wrist!
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The bedroom door was locked! App status confirmed! How had that bastard entered? His movements were unnervingly swift. My thoughts churned chaotically. Call the police? Say what? A repairman entered my wife’s locked bedroom? Would they believe me? What if he was just… checking for leaks? The excuse rang hollow even to me. Sweat drenched my shirt. Agony stretched every second. I stared at the screen, at that damned, closed door.

The Exit
Horrific images flashed. My heart threatened to burst. How long passed? A minute? Five? The bedroom door opened—just a sliver! The figure in work pants slipped back out—swift, silent, ghostlike. *He was out!* Still quick. Still quiet. He stood in the hall, gently pushing the door shut tight. His eyes darted—scanning the hall, the living room. Assessing. Making sure he hadn’t been seen.

Planting Evidence
Then, he strode purposefully towards the living room, faster now, though still muted. He clutched something small! The light was tricky on camera—a dark little box? He headed straight for the TV stand! Where Emma kept her everyday jewelry box! My throat constricted. Without hesitation, he slid open the top drawer! Precise. Fast. Then—my blood ran cold—he dropped the dark box inside! A sharp, decisive flick of his wrist!
NEXT >>