He kissed my forehead and asked how my first day had gone.
I told him about the office, the meetings, the view.
I did not mention Maya.
Not because I was afraid.
Because I was not ready to give him a chance to lie his way out of it.
The next morning, his phone lit up on the kitchen counter.
Maya: *Can’t wait for tonight.*
He picked it up quickly and told me he had back-to-back pitches.
“Good luck,” I said.
At work, Maya arrived glowing.
She told me about their favorite hotel bar and another dinner Michael had planned.
I asked questions carefully.
I collected details.
Then, after lunch, I called Sarah Levin, my best friend and one of the sharpest divorce attorneys in New York.
“Can you meet tonight?” I asked.
There was a pause.
“Your voice is very quiet,” she said.
“I know.”
“I’ll be there at seven.”
That evening, I saw Michael pick Maya up outside our office.
She wrapped her arms around his neck.
He kissed her hair.
Then he opened the passenger door for her.
I stood behind the lobby glass and watched my husband help another woman into his car.
That was the moment I stopped doubting myself.
Sarah met me at our usual coffee shop near Washington Square. I told her everything from the photo to the car.
When I finished, she placed both hands on the table.
“You haven’t said anything to him?”
