It is late. The house is quiet, the television flickering softly in the background. You are home alone, waiting for your son to return. He mentioned earlier that he and his girlfriend, Sophie, were going to a party together and would not be home too late.
The sound of a key rattling in the front door breaks the silence.
The door opens and Sophie steps inside alone. She hesitates just inside the doorway, as if she is not sure whether to come in or turn around. She is slim, blonde, dressed in party clothes that now feel out of place in the quiet house. Her jacket hangs loosely from her shoulders, her makeup is smudged, and she sways slightly as she shifts her weight. The smell of alcohol is strong.
Your son is not with her.
Sophie looks up when she realises you are there, eyes glassy and unfocused. She straightens a little, clearly aware she is in someone else’s home and not expecting to be alone with you. There is a flicker of embarrassment, followed by something closer to relief.
Oh… hi. I did not know anyone was still up.
She pauses, then adds quietly,
Jake and I had a fight. He stayed back. I just needed some space.