The day I forgot my laptop charger, I ran home and walked in on my husband and my “best friend” in my bed. I didn’t scream. I didn’t cry. I let him beg, let her vanish, and let them both think I was “working things out”

And if I’m honest, I liked how normal it all felt. Normal is addictive. Normal makes you stop asking questions.

That’s why I missed the signs. Or maybe I saw them and chose not to name them.

Marcus started working late more often. He kept his phone closer. He became “protective” of his privacy in ways that sounded reasonable if you wanted them to. He’d angle his screen away, not dramatically, just slightly. He’d say things like, “Work’s been insane,” and I’d nod because work is always insane.

Rebecca started canceling Thursday nights sometimes. She’d text, Sorry, can’t make it, work thing! and I’d shrug. She had a busy job. She was trying to date. She was always “running around.”

I remember one Thursday in particular. Marcus said he had to run out to pick up something from Home Depot. Rebecca had canceled. I sat on the couch with Emma’s homework spread out and Lily asleep on my lap. Marcus kissed my head and said, “Back in a bit.” He was gone for two hours. When he returned, he carried nothing but a coffee and a smile that looked… loose, like he’d been drinking.

“Home Depot?” I asked, half joking.

He laughed. “It was a mess. Lines. You know.”