Chapter 3

The hospital corridor felt endless as I walked beside James, my heart still pounding with the fear of leaving Leo with Amanda. James's hand gripped my elbow, his fingers digging into my skin with unnecessary force as he guided me to an empty consultation room.

"You're embarrassing me," he hissed, closing the door behind us. "Amanda is one of our most respected nurses."

"She was hurting him deliberately," I insisted, my voice barely above a whisper. "I saw it in her eyes, James."

He ran his hand through his immaculate hair, his wedding ring catching the fluorescent light. The same ring I'd placed on his finger fifteen years ago, believing in forever.

"This paranoia has to stop," he said, his tone clinical, as though diagnosing a stranger. "Amanda will continue to care for Leo. In fact, I've assigned her as his primary nurse until he's discharged."

The room seemed to shrink around me. "You can't—"

"I can and I have." His eyes, once warm when they looked at me, were now cold and distant. "Go home, Victoria. Get some rest. You're clearly not thinking rationally."

I stood there, frozen, as he walked out, leaving me alone with the realization that my husband had just chosen his mistress over our son's wellbeing.

* * *

Leo was discharged the following evening, his fever finally under control. I kept him close, watching for any sign that Amanda had done something more sinister than I could prove. James came home with us, maintaining the façade of the concerned father and husband for our son's benefit.

After tucking Leo into bed, I retreated to our bedroom, hoping James would leave for Amanda's as he had so many nights before. Instead, I heard his footsteps following me.

"Victoria," he said, closing the door behind him. "I need you to do something for me."

I turned, wary. "What?"

"Amanda is coming over. I want you to take some photographs of us."

The request was so absurd I almost laughed. "You can't be serious."

"I'm entirely serious." He pulled out his phone, checking the time. "She'll be here in twenty minutes. I've set up the terrace."

I felt sick. "No. I won't do that."

James's expression didn't change, but something dangerous flickered in his eyes. "If you refuse, I'll freeze your access to our accounts. All of them."

"You wouldn't."

"Try me." He stepped closer. "One call to the bank, Victoria. How would you care for Leo then?"

The doorbell chimed, echoing through our home like a death knell.

"Perfect timing," James smiled, all charm again. "Get the camera from my study."

My legs moved automatically, carrying me to his study while my mind screamed in protest. The expensive camera felt heavy in my hands as I returned to find them on the terrace, champagne already poured, the Manhattan skyline glittering behind them like nothing was wrong.

"There you are," Amanda purred, her arm draped possessively around James's waist. She wore a silk dress that clung to her body, her hair loose around her shoulders. "We're ready for our close-up."

James gestured impatiently. "Start with us on the lounge chair."

I raised the camera, my hands trembling so badly I could barely focus. Through the viewfinder, I watched as Amanda settled onto James's lap, her lips against his neck, her eyes never leaving mine.

"More intimate," James commanded, his hand sliding up Amanda's thigh.

Click. The sound echoed in my ears like a gunshot.

"Turn this way," he directed, pulling Amanda closer.

Click. My wedding ring caught the light as I adjusted the lens.

"Perfect," Amanda whispered, though whether to James or to me, I couldn't tell.

Click. My dignity shattered with each press of the button.

When it was finally over, James took the camera from my numb fingers. "We'll need to make this a regular thing," he said casually. "Amanda enjoys having memories captured."

I said nothing, my voice buried somewhere beneath the weight of this new humiliation.

"Same time tomorrow," he added, as though scheduling a business meeting. "Dawn light is particularly flattering."

That night, as I lay alone in our bed, my phone chimed with an incoming message. With shaking fingers, I opened it to find the first of the photos I'd taken, James and Amanda smiling at the camera, the Manhattan skyline a perfect backdrop to my perfect nightmare.

The message below it read: "Just making sure you have a copy too. Sweet dreams, Victoria."

I stared at the ceiling, tears sliding silently into my hair, wondering how much more I could endure before I broke completely.