The photo was of the nursery we'd decorated at home. The little quilt I'd sewn by hand was in the frame.

"This is the ultimate thrill. His wife's in the hospital losing their baby, and we're going at it in the nursery. Soaked her little homemade quilt right through."

August 9th. I'd just given birth. I was deep in postpartum recovery, drowning in depression so black I didn't want to be alive.

The photo was of our master bedroom.

"First time sneaking in while his wife's home. This man knows exactly what he's doing. Absolutely insane."

I was gasping for air.

My fingers clawed into my hair before I could stop them. My heart felt like it was being punctured by a thousand needles, the pain so sharp I couldn't breathe.

I fought the scream building in my throat.

Then I remembered. The neighbor downstairs had filed a complaint once.

"Have some decency up there! Screaming in the middle of the night — aren't you embarrassed?"

I'd always been confused. Everyone in our house went to bed early.

I'd wanted to confront the neighbor, but Jayden stopped me. "Why waste your time on people with no class?"

Now I thought I might finally have the answer.

I stood up and looked around the room — this room I knew so well, and yet didn't know at all.

Details I'd overlooked for years suddenly surfaced.

The smart speaker was loaded with music I'd never liked. I'd changed the settings multiple times, but it always reverted.

The bath towels were folded differently than the way I folded them.

The air conditioning was set several degrees lower than I preferred. Every time I turned it on, I had to adjust it right away.

Countless pieces of evidence proved it.

This woman didn't just have the second home my husband had given her. She'd also come to my home, countless times. Slept with my husband. Deliberately left traces behind. Like she was showing off. Like she was marking her territory. Like she was chasing the thrill.

And I, like a fool, hadn't noticed a thing.

I bit down on my lip so hard that blood seeped out before I even realized it.

I sat there, hollow, the entire night.

The next day at work, a text came through on my phone.

"Come to Mom's for dinner tonight."

"Okay."

I was a dignified person. Even if we were going to separate, I didn't want it to be ugly.

But the moment I walked through the door, I froze.

I wasn't the only one. Mrs. Whitney Sr. froze. Jayden froze.