“You said you ‘knew.’ How?”
He hesitated, then answered.
“Sean’s former assistant, Kelly. She confided in me.”
That caught me off guard.
“When?”
“Before everything fell apart. She was worried about how things were being handled. I didn’t tell you then, but I’m telling you now because you’re finally ready to hear it.”
That night, I couldn’t sleep.
I kept thinking about what Peter said, about the boxes, about Kelly.
I needed to hear the truth myself.
So I made a decision—one I wasn’t proud of.
Peter was asleep when I quietly entered his room. We didn’t share a bedroom. There was no confusion about what our marriage was. His phone lay on the nightstand.
I hesitated.
Then I picked it up.
His password was simple: his name.
I found the contact.
Kelly.
I saved the number, then placed the phone back exactly as it was.
My hands were shaking as I left.
The next morning, I read the reply to my message: “Hi, this is Catherine. Sean’s ex. Could we talk?”
When I left the house, I told Peter I had errands to run.
He didn’t question it.
That somehow made it worse.
I drove to a small café across town.
When Kelly arrived, she looked younger than I remembered.
For a moment, we said nothing.
Then I spoke.
“I need to know what you told Peter.”
