Short Story

Here’s my first short story on 7cups. TW: murder. I’d really appreciate any feedback, as I’m new to writing short stories!

The Final Vow
The house felt too quiet without her.

He thought of her perfume lingering on his shirt when she leaned into him. He remembered how her phone had buzzed incessantly, but she had ignored it.

Sitting in the armchair by the window—he stared out at the dark street. The tea on the table had long gone cold. His thumb brushed the edge of the mug, almost by habit. She had held it in this very chair, her fingers adorned with a slim, elegant wedding ring. It caught the light when she gestured, her laugh warm and easy. He hated how much he had noticed it.

He ran his fingers over her scarf draped across the back of the chair. Her perfume still lingered faintly—vanilla and jasmine. It clung to him too, inescapable and bittersweet.

The memories pressed in, vivid and raw. The way she had laughed that first night they met, her head thrown back as if she wasn’t afraid of the world. Then the way she had stopped meeting his eyes at breakfast over the last few months.

He had known. Of course, he had known.

The late-night calls, the quickened steps as she left the house. He had seen her looking around to evade his eyes before whispering into the phone, “When will you return?” He had heard her call that man “darling.”

But he had forgiven her. He always forgave her. People made mistakes.

The knock at the door jolted him from his thoughts. He rose slowly, smoothing his shirt, and opened it to find two officers standing on the porch.

“Good evening,” one said. “We’re looking into the disappearance of a woman from the neighborhood. Her husband reported her missing earlier today. Have you noticed anything unusual?”

He shook his head, his expression soft with concern. “I’m sorry to hear that. No, I haven’t.”

They asked a few more questions, thanked him, and left.

He closed the door and stood there for a moment, gripping the handle. The silence felt heavier now, pressing down on him.

In the basement, her body lay beneath a stained sheet. He stared at it for a long time, then reached down and adjusted her hair, smoothing it away from her face.

She wasn’t his wife. She never had been... like everyone before her.

But in the glow of the dim basement light, he vowed, “Till death do us part, darling.”