All I know was, before he left, he said, “I’ll stay at a hotel for now. Just tell our daughter I’m on a business trip, teaching at a university out of town.”
I didn't even remember how I got home.
Next thing I knew, I was sitting on the edge of my daughter’s bed, watching her sleep peacefully, so sweet and innocent.
And I was a mess inside.
Should I really give in?
For her sake, for our family’s sake, should I just pretend everything’s okay and accept Milton’s betrayal?
Was that really the right thing to do?
Even when I stepped out of her room, I still didn’t have an answer.
I was sitting on the couch in the living room, lost in thought, when my phone buzzed.
It was a message from Laura.
[Elaine, don’t think you’ve won.]
[You can only scare me. What good does that do? I just cried a little, and Milton had already arranged a full check-up for me. He even stayed with me the whole time.]
[Want to see something fun? Let me show you what that perfect little marriage of yours really looks like on the inside. It’s more broken than you think.]
Then came dozens of explicit, vulgar photos, and a voice recording.
I hit play.
The room was dead silent as Milton’s voice filled the air, low, strained, trying to stay in control.
“Arch your back a little more.”
Then came another voice, sweet and whimpering, like she was both flirting and begging.
“Mr. West… I was wrong. Please, be gentle.”
His voice again, hoarse and full of lust.
“Shut up. Don’t overact.”
“You don’t like it?”
But there was no longer an answer, only action.
What followed was unmistakable. The kind of sounds no wife should ever have to hear her husband make with someone else.
Even so, I forced myself to keep listening.
At some point, Laura’s voice, trembling and full of emotion, broke through.
“You’re leaving again? You never spend the night. If you love your wife so much, if you’re so loyal to Elaine, then why are you still sleeping with me?”
The silence stretched afterward, so I thought the recording had ended.
But the progress bar kept moving.
Then, his voice came again.
“Elaine is a gynecologist. She touches those things every day. I can’t help but feel… she’s a little dirty.”
Elaine's POV
The recording ended there.
His voice had been sharp as ice, each word like a blade cutting deep, mercilessly.
In that moment, everything I’d been holding onto shattered. And the saddest part? My efforts now felt like a cruel joke.