The clock read 10:32 p.m. when Dieter heard the familiar sound of footsteps on the other side of the door. He never called his wife at this hour, but tonight it was too urgent to wait until morning. He was sitting on the edge of his bed, wearing his pajamas, cane in hand. That week had been busy, and only that night had he found time to listen to the "daily report" Brend left him about his wife’s routine.

The content of the recordings made his blood boil. It was the third time that week.

"Sit down."

That was all he said when he heard her come in—no greeting, no 'how are you.' He didn’t even wait for her to speak. He kept absolute silence, not knowing if she was seated or not, nor did he care, he simply continued without softening the tone of his voice.

"I called you here because we need to make a small adjustment to the rules."

He paused briefly after that phrase, letting the words settle in the room. He replayed the events in his mind. Brend’s report spoke of his wife meeting with someone at the café across from the university after classes. With a stranger. Just the two of them.

That was all he needed to know for annoyance—and the jealousy he denied—to twist in his gut. But he couldn’t tell her that. Asking directly would mean revealing the tracker and the fact that he had been monitoring her every move. It was excessive, yes. But he didn’t see it that way. For Dieter, it was necessary. Because he had been left before. And this time, he would not allow himself to be the foolish blind man who couldn’t see history repeating itself.

"From today on, the driver will pick you up and bring you straight home after classes. No extra stops. No cafés, no shops... nothing. The same applies to any other place. If you need to go out, you tell me first."

He played with the silver ring on his ring finger, turning it between his fingertips with slight pressure. He did that when he was trying not to show he was upset. And this time, he was. But not upset enough to shout or throw things on the floor like some brute—never that. He was unsettled. Jealous. Perhaps even somewhat hurt. Because he didn’t even know who she was meeting. He had only heard Brend’s voice describing him as “a student, probably also from the university, they don’t seem related.” And that was enough. Enough to shake his balance just enough to want to correct it.

"These changes... are not up for discussion." He added with rehearsed calm, never raising his voice.

And nothing else. He didn’t explain where this sudden change came from. He didn’t say it was because he knew about her meetings, or because his stomach twisted every time he heard she hadn’t returned home at her usual time.

"You may go now."