Chapter 2
Early the next morning, I put on my suit, grabbed my briefcase, and stood by the door.
"Honey, something went wrong with a project at work. I have to go to the neighboring city for another three days," I said.
Linda was making Henry's milk. Hearing my words, she turned around, her face full of surprise. "What? So soon? You just got back yesterday."
"Sorry. Mr. Kingston called me himself. He said it's a life-or-death situation."
Hearing the word "Mr. Kingston", Linda couldn't help but smile, her eyes sparkling with excitement.
"Go on, then. Work comes first. I'll take care of things at home. Don't worry," she said.
She came over, fussing with my tie, her fingers trailing across my chest, making me feel sick to my stomach.
After I left home, I didn't head to the station. Instead, I swung by an electronics store and grabbed a set of mini spy cameras and a voice recorder.
*****
By ten in the morning, Linda took Henry downstairs to the early learning center.
I snuck back into my house like a thief.
I set up the cameras: one in the AC vent right across from the bed in the master bedroom, another tucked inside an ornament on the living room TV stand, and the last one hidden behind the bathroom mirror.
Three cameras, every angle covered, not a single blind spot left.
After double-checking the live feed on my backup phone and making sure everything was crystal clear, I finally drove off.
I parked my car in a dead-end alley behind the complex, a blind spot for the security cameras, where I could keep an eye on my balcony through the window.
*****
At two in the afternoon, that black BMW X5 I knew all too well rolled into the complex, like it owned the place.
The door swung open. Richard Kingston, who always acted like my buddy at work, stepped out, carrying a bottle of red wine.
He didn't take the elevator. He took the stairs, trying to keep a low profile.
I opened the surveillance app on my phone and put on my headphones.
On the screen, the doorbell rang. Linda practically ran to open it.
She was wearing a black lace nightgown I'd never seen before, barely any fabric, the kind of thing only a lover would wear.
As soon as the door cracked open, Richard squeezed in, grabbed Linda's waist, and slammed the door shut with his foot.
Right there in the entryway, the spot where I put on my shoes every day, they were all over each other, tangled up like two horny snakes.
"Bad boy, what took you so long? I've been dying for you," Linda purred.
Her tone was sugary and flirtatious, nothing like the cold way she always talks to me.
Richard's hands were all over her. He laughed like a creep, "Had to get that dumbass out of the house. I gave him a task he'd never pull off.
"He's nothing but a workaholic cash machine. Using his money to raise our son? That's delicious."
I sat in the car, gripping my phone so hard my nails dug into my palm, blood oozing between my fingers.
On the screen, they'd already tumbled onto the living room sofa.
That was the leather sofa we'd saved up for three months to buy, the one Linda would always yell at Henry for thinking about jumping on.
But now, she was crouching on the sofa with her knees down, doing exactly what Henry did yesterday.
"Giddy up. Richard, faster," Linda cried out.
The sounds in my headphones felt like knives, shredding my self-respect.
I switched the recording to HD, staring at their shameless bodies tangled together on the screen. My eyes were so dry that I couldn't squeeze out a single tear.
All I felt was a tidal wave of hatred, burning like wildfire in my chest.