09/09/2024
I remember the exact day my seemingly perfect marriage started to unravel. My wife, Natalie, had been staying late at work more and more, and one night at dinner, I caught a glimpse of a text on her phone that read, "Honey, will you be there tomorrow?"
She quickly deleted the message, thinking I hadn't seen it, and tried to change the subject. But I couldn't let it go.
"What was that?" I asked, trying to keep my voice steady.
"What do you mean?" she replied, all confused — or maybe just pretending.
"The message. I saw what it said," I pressed, my stomach twisting.
Natalie sighed and rubbed her forehead. "Hank, it's not what you think," she insisted, showing me her phone and claiming it was just a wrong number.
That night, I couldn't sleep. The message replayed in my head over and over. My suspicions kept growing until I knew I had to do something, even if it was wrong — I had to find out the truth.
The next morning, I made up my mind to follow her. I parked near her work, watching as she left and drove off. I tailed her, my heart pounding, until she pulled up to a run-down house in a modest neighborhood.
I waited, then got out of the car and approached the window, my pulse racing. What I saw inside left me frozen.👇
