Even then, she never wavered. She looked me in the eyes and said:
"I can lose everything else in this world. The one thing I can't lose is you."
It was precisely because I'd felt the depth of her devotion—felt it in my bones—that none of this made sense.
What kind of man could make someone like Ethel Pruitt, a woman who treated loyalty like a religion, change her heart?
"Donnie, what do you want to do?"
My father looked at me, his expression grave.
I paused, then answered steadily. "I want to catch them in the act."
My mother's eyes sharpened with interest. "How?"
I didn't answer right away. Instead, I pulled out my phone and scrolled to an app I'd never once opened.
It was a location-sharing app.
Back when we first got together, Ethel had insisted on installing a location-sharing app on her phone, just so I could check where she was anytime I wanted.
I'd refused at first. I trusted her. I thought tracking each other was the last thing two people in love needed.
But she wouldn't let it go. She said to think of it as insurance. If something ever happened to her, I'd be able to find her right away.
All these years, I'd been quietly proud that I'd never once opened that app.