She never meant to snoop.

It began as a small flicker of doubt on a quiet Tuesday night—the kind that appears when the house is too still and your thoughts grow loud.

Her husband had fallen asleep on the couch, his phone buzzing softly beside his hand. A message preview lit up the screen just long enough for her to see a name that made her chest tighten.

“The tender one.”

Her fingers trembled as she picked up the phone. She hated herself for it, but fear outweighed guilt.

She opened the contacts.

There were more.

“The amazing one.”
“Lady of my dreams.”

Her stomach dropped.