You wake up in a bed not your own. There is a woman in the bathroom, and she believes you are her husband.

You groggily open your eyes, and realize you are not in your bed. This isn't unheard of for you. You've woken up on many different couches in your life. But this is not a couch, and you don't recognize the room. You are in a bed, and the bed appears to be in a master bedroom in a house that isn't yours. You lay there in silence for a moment, trying to figure out who's house it was, and how long it was going to be until they woke up and screamed at you to get the hell out of their room. The issue is though, you have no idea how you got here, or even who "here" even is. Nothing about this room is familiar to you in the slightest. You struggle out of bed, and make your way to the door. You slowly turn the handle and step out, pulling the door behind you. You don't want some angry person coming out of the bathroom to find you wandering their house. You are currently just wearing boxer shorts, so you're not really in any state to talk to people. Outside the room, you find yourself in a hallway with four other doors. Three of them enter a pair of rooms and a closet, while the last is the stairs leading down to the first floor. You decide to start by trying the other two rooms. One of the rooms is empty, but the other has two children in it. A boy and a girl, both of whom look to be less than ten. They look over at you and both stare in confusion. "Who are you?" the boy asks. "I... am your father." You say with a shrug, not sure of what else to say. "Daddy, why are you wearing underwear?" the girl asks, clearly grossed out by the sight. "Daddy, why don't I know you?" the boy says, just as visibily confused as his sister. You start to explain your story, but the kids just get more and more confused. You realize explaining this isn't going to be easy. Just then, a woman comes running up the stairs and into the room. You recognize her as the woman who was in the bathroom when you woke up. "Hey kids. I thought I heard you talking. Morning!" She gives you a warm smile as she puts her arm around the kids, and they start explaining to her that they don't know who you are. "Don't be ridiculous. Of course you know who this is, this is your father." She says, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. The kids just continue explaining that they don't know who that is, but the woman just laughs. "Oh, don't try and joke around with mommy, you're not funny." She says. The kids continue on about not knowing who you are. "No, I am your father." You say. The woman looks at you. "You're acting very strange this morning. Are you okay?" "I'm not your husband." You explain. The woman lets out a cold laugh. "What did you just say?" "I am not your husband." You repeat. "Don't say that." She says, her voice rising. "I am not your husband. I am not the father of these children. I don't know who I am or where I am or how I got here or anything. I was just going to try and figure that out." She slaps you across the face, hard. "Don't say that. You're scaring the kids." She says, looking down at the young pair. "I think we're going downstairs. You... go back to bed or something." The kids turn and get out of the room. The woman turns back towards you. "I don't know how you can say things like that. You know how hard I have it with the kids. Do you know how hard it is to raise two kids without a father?" "I am not their father." You argue. She hits you again. "Now you're scaring me. You're scaring everyone. Why would you act like this? Do you know how long I've loved you?" "I don't even know who you are." You argue. She looks like she's about to hit you again, but she doesn't. "I was in love with you before the kids. Before you left. Even before we met. I have always loved you." She says. "I am not the person you loved." You argue. "I don't know what kind of game this is. But the kids are leaving. Are you going to come downstairs with us?" "I think I'll stay up here." You say. "Well, I won't keep the kids from their father." She says bitterly. "I am not their father." You say. She turns and walks out of the room, down the stairs and out the front door with the kids. You close the door to her room and re-enter. You shut the door and walk over to the dresser. You sort of figure that if this woman thinks you're her husband, than she probably doesn't mind you going through his stuff. You open up the top drawer and check what's inside. It's a pair of socks. You close that drawer and open the second one. More socks. You close the second drawer and open the bottom one. Even more socks. You close the bottom drawer and move on to the next set of drawers. You open the top drawer, and it's socks, the second drawer, socks, the third drawer, socks. You continue opening drawers. Every single one of them is socks. You start to get a little confused. You open the last drawer. Finally, no socks. This drawer is filled with pictures. Stacked in neat little rows. Every single picture is of you and the woman, together. You don't recognize either of yourselves in any of the pictures. You've never seen either of you before in your entire life. You close the last drawer and move on. You wander the room, looking for anything out of the ordinary. You eventually come to a little desk thing in the corner of the room. There is a drawer in the desk. You open it. Inside the drawer, there is a gun. You pick it up and put it in your pocket. You close the desk drawer and continue searching the room. I don't know what you're looking for, but you sure as hell haven't found it yet. What are you going to do now?

You wake up in a bed not your own. There is a woman in the bathroom, and she believes you are her husband.

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