With one hand resting on my restless baby, I took screenshots with the other. I sent the videos and screenshots to myself, then carefully deleted the evidence. Satisfied that everything was in order, I placed the phone back exactly where I'd found it. Same angle. Same distance from the edge. The way a woman learns to move in a house where nothing is truly hers.
Waddling back to the bedroom, I lay down on my side. The weight of betrayal settled over me as my heart felt like it had a hole ripped through it, and I couldn't stop shivering from the cold weight of betrayal. After seven years of marriage, seven years of carrying the Moretti name like a second skin I never asked for, I had been reduced to a cruel joke. The dutiful wife. The clean face of a dirty family. And all along, he'd been spending Family money on a woman from the Valentes, a name so small it barely registered in the territories.