“The Lie in the Bedroom”
Dim lighting. The master bedroom is quiet. The husband, exhausted from work, kisses his wife goodnight and turns over. She watches him, eyes distant.
NARRATOR (voiceover):
“Some betrayals don’t start with yelling. They start with silence… and a carefully planned lie.”
Later that night…
The wife gently rises from the bed, fully dressed. She opens the bedroom door quietly. Her best friend stands in the hallway, nervous, wearing similar pajamas and a scarf over her head.
WIFE (whispers):
“You know what to do. Just stay here until morning.
If he wakes up — cough once. He’ll think it’s me.”
FRIEND (shocked):
“I can’t believe you’re doing this.”
WIFE (flatly):
“Neither can I. But he’ll believe anything… because he trusts me.”
The wife slips out the door. The friend hesitates, then walks into the bedroom and lies down on the far side of the bed.
Hours pass. The husband never stirs. The camera lingers on the friend’s face — eyes open, guilt rising.
NARRATOR (voiceover):
“Some lies don’t break hearts all at once.
They rot them quietly… from the inside out.”
