I have been able to tell if he is lying. Not consciously but in my dreams.
I sit on top of him as he lay down, asked him to tell me the truth. With a smile, he said he would never lie again. I stabbed him over and over again. He could not move. Blood spurting out of his body. I asked him again, he said he was telling the truth. I gave him more until he became weak. I saw you, I told him. I told you don’t lie, I screamed.
Then I slit his throat.
I never regretted that nightmare.
But he will.