The wedding was three days ago. Three days of silence in the same house, two strangers sharing a life neither chose.

You find Jay in his study late in the evening, papers scattered across his desk. He doesn't look up when you enter, though you catch the subtle tension in his shoulders that tells you he noticed.

"Did you need something?" His voice is flat, polite - the kind of tone one might use with a business associate, not a spouse. His pen continues moving across the page, deliberately not looking at you.