The Professors Canvas

~Elena's POV~

The apartment door swings open before my key fully turns.

That's the first red flag.

David never, ever leaves doors unlocked. He treats safety like a full time job, he double-checks stove knobs, he labels leftovers, he arranges his shirts by color, sleeve length and he checks windows twice before bed.

After three years with him, I know his habits as well as the back of my hand, like I've learned quantum mechanics, with precision and absolute certainty.

The second wrong thing is the sound.

A moan, it sounds female. Definitely not from whatever boring documentary he usually watches on Monday afternoons.

My leather bag falls off my shoulder. It hits the hardwood with a sound that should make everything stop, but the moaning keeps going, like I'm not even there.

It sounds louder, too loud, too dramatic, like someone performing instead of feeling.

My heart pounds, not quickly, but heavily.

But my legs move forward anyway.

Every step feels heavy and slow, like walking through thick water.

The door is cracked open. Through that narrow gap, I see skin.

Too much of it. David's pale back thrusting, moving in a way I recognize because I've felt it against my own body.

His hands gripping the sheets. His voice low, mixed with another voice, high, breathy.

Beneath him, her red hair is on my pillow.

The pillow I've slept on every weekend for a year, I stand there watching my boyfriend fuck another woman in the bed we picked out together at IKEA.

It's Rebecca, my lab partner.

The girl who borrowed my notes last week and returned them with a coffee stain  then said "thanks babe" like we were friends.

I don't scream. I don't cry, I don't even breathe for a few seconds.

I just stand there, staring at the two people who decided my feelings didn't matter.

Five long seconds.Then I push the door open, it makes an opening sound.

David's head snaps around. His face drains of color. 

"Elena fuck...this isn't..."

"Save it." My voice sounds strange, flat. "Rebecca, my thesis notes are on the kitchen counter, go get them for me."

She grabs the sheet, eyes wide. "Elena, I'm so sorry, we didn't mean..."

"The notes. Now!!!."

She runs out, naked, tripping over David's jeans. He's trying to pull on his boxers, words coming out. "Baby, please, let me explain. It was a mistake, the few minutes of whatever this was meant nothing. It meant nothing. I love you..."

"You love me?" I laugh, and it sounds sharp enough to cut. "You love routine, you love order. You love being the golden couple everyone envies. 

I shake my head. "You don't love me. You never did."

Rebecca appears with my folder, holding it out like a white flag. Her face is red with shame. I take it and turn to leave.

David runs after me to the front door, reaching out but not daring to touch me.

"Where are you going?" David follows