I was leaving the dry cleaners with my husband’s suits when a colleague told me, “He’s not traveling, he’s been with another woman for days,” and at that moment I understood why my marriage was already a lie.

He was the kind of person who looked at you with genuine focus rather than just polite acknowledgment. He smiled warmly as he walked toward my table.

“Weren’t you supposed to be traveling with Wesley this week?” Simon asked.

“No, he is currently in Seattle for a conference,” I replied without a second thought.

The expression on his face shifted instantly from casual friendliness to a heavy, uncomfortable silence. It was not a dramatic gasp, but rather a subtle realization behind his eyes, like someone who had just stumbled upon a secret they were not meant to hold.

“Miranda, Wesley is not in Seattle,” Simon said softly, his voice dropping an octave. “He has been at Bridget’s place all week, and I honestly thought the two of you had worked something out.”

The ambient noise of the coffee shop seemed to vanish instantly as the sound of the espresso machines and the background music faded behind a thick pane of glass. Bridget had worked in the same department as my husband for three years and had even sat at my own dining table for dinner.