Chapter 2 You should never jump to conclusions about a receipt , or a barely - there kiss mark . But that tiny blemish , paired with that damned receipt , was like a needle piercing through the calm I'd just forced into place . Some murky , unnameable emotion began to rise from the pit of my chest . My eyes drifted to Albert's phone on the nightstand . My hand curled into a fist , then loosened again . After a pause , I picked it up and , without hesitation , switched off the lamp and walked into the bathroom . " Inside , I stood before the sink , staring at my pale reflection in the mirror . My mind went to our son Sam . Just five years old . If I found proof that Albert had cheated , divorcing him would be a betrayal to Sam . But not divorcing him ? That would be a betrayal to myself . In the end , I picked up the phone . I've never been one to turn a blind eye , especially not to something like this . Thad never touched Albert's phone before . I didn't even know his passcode . I could only guess . My birthday , wrong . Sam's birthday , wrong again . The screen warned : One attempt remaining . I hesitated . Took a breath . Then typed in our wedding anniversary . The screen unlocked . First , I opened the photo gallery . It was filled with pictures of me and Sam . Smiles , playgrounds , Sunday mornings . Everything looked so peaceful . But my instincts told me there was more beneath the surface . I cracked the bathroom door , peering out at Albert . Then I gently shut it again and returned to the phone , navigating to the file folders . I began opening thern one by one . Time passed . I'd even started cursing myself for being paranoid when I opened a folder labeled " Work Docs " , and found a hidden album . The folder icon was translucent , meaning if I hadn't clicked " show hidden files , " I would've never seen it . My finger hovered over the screen , trembling . When the hidden album opened , the world around me seemed to fade into a silent , icy haze , It wasn't blood that ran through my veins anymore , but a frigid , paralyzing terror . Dozens of photos . All of them of Leah , the same woman who'd posted that condom link in the group chat earlier . She was dressed in revealing lace lingerie , posing seductively in every shot . And the backdrop ? My guest bedroom . The one I'd decorated myself . The one I'd prepared for my parents when they came to visit . There she was , sprawled across those very sheets , smiling coyly with a smug look on her face . In one of the pictures , she stood in front of my antique vanity, holding my favorite lipstick like it belonged to her . That man I'd supported through everything , the man everyone praised for his loyalty , the man I loved and trusted , had just stabbed me clean through the heart . So he could cheat . He just moved the battlefield into my home . I backed out of the album , my hands ice - cold , and opened Albert's Facebook Messenger . I searched for Leah's contact . I didn't expect them to have any connection at all . The only reason I ever added her was because Sam missed a day of school and I needed someone to help collect his crafts materials . But somehow , they were mutuals . Their chat history was blank . Like two strangers who had never spoken a word . I instinctively clicked on her Facebook profile . Empty . No posts , no photos . Like a ghost profile . But something about that didn't sit right . I snatched up my own phone , my fingertips trembling slightly from how hard I was gripping it . I searched for Leah's contact and tapped on her profile . What popped up on my screen was entirely different . Her Facebook feed was bursting at the seams , like the curated display window of a boutique store . Post after post , all flaunting her so - called " perfect " life . The most recent one was a brand - new luxury handbag . [ Thanks , babe . You work so hard . Love you ! ] In the photo , the bag sat neatly on the armrest of a couch . My couch . Identical fabric . Identical cushions . The exact same shade of beige I had chosen .