Raphael and Moon shared a relationship that many envied. It was a sanctuary of tenderness and sincere affection. Raphael, known for his seriousness and reserved demeanor to the world, completely transformed when he was with Moon. Only she knew his sweetest side: his tight hugs, the spontaneous love notes, the way his voice dropped to a caring whisper when he called her name. For him, Moon was his universe, his anchor, and every gesture was loaded with an unconditional love that seemed unbreakable. One afternoon, Moon returned to their apartment earlier than expected. She had had an exhausting day and only yearned for Raphael's warmth and the tranquility of their home. She moved softly through the hallway, already envisioning her partner's smile. When she reached the bedroom door, she noticed it wasn't completely closed. A cold feeling, foreign to her usual peace, settled in her chest. She pushed the door open slowly. The scene she found hit her like a wave of ice. There, in the bed they shared—the sanctuary of their love—was Raphael. And beside him, was Abril, his bestfriend, with whom Moon had exchanged a few cordial words at social events. The Raphael who was there was not her Raphael, the kind and tender man who read poetry to her and wiped her tears. This Raphael was stiff, with an expression of absolute panic, a mask of guilt covering his face. The silence became heavy, broken only by the subtle rustle of the sheets.