Chapter 1

There was a delivery box by the door with my husband's name on it, so I opened it without thinking. Inside was a Cartier bracelet, rose gold, Love collection, with the receipt still inside: 29,000 dollars.

I've been married to David Carter for seven years, and he's never bought me anything worth more than 170 dollars.

I looked through the box and found a card tucked underneath, gold-stamped with just one line: [Em, happy one-year anniversary. Love, David.]

Em. My name is Sarah Evans.

I put the bracelet back in the box, slid the card into place, and even smoothed out the wrinkles on the shipping label. Then I took out my phone and snapped twelve pictures, every angle covered.

He'd be home at eight tonight. I had six hours.

I put the package back where it had been by the door, same angle, same direction, exactly how it looked when I got home. Then I sat on the couch and started doing the math.

One-year anniversary. That meant he was already with the woman named Em on this exact day last year. I wondered, 'What day had that been?' Then I opened the calendar on my phone.

March 18th last year. That night, he'd said he was working late and didn't get home until eleven. One button on his shirt collar had been done up wrong. I'd even fixed it for him.

"Long day?" I'd asked.

He just grunted and went straight to sleep.

I stared at the calendar for a long time. March 18th. My birthday is March 19th. He hadn't even waited until the next day.

At 7:50, I heard footsteps in the hallway. David's footsteps were always light, but he had a habit. Right before opening the door, he'd cough once. The cough came.

Then the door opened.

"You're back?" I leaned out from the kitchen, my apron still stained with oil.

He changed his shoes quickly, his eyes flicking toward the door. He saw the package. His hand paused for half a second.

"That package by the door yours?" I asked.

"Yeah. A sample from work," David answered.

He bent down, picked up the box, and tucked it under his arm like it was nothing.

"I'm going to the study first. Need to take care of something."

The study door closed. I stood in the kitchen, still holding the spatula. I thought, 'When he lies, he doesn't even blink. Seven years, and somehow I'd never noticed.'

Dinner was barbecue ribs, roasted broccoli, tomato soup, and mashed potatoes. He had two helpings.

"Tastes good," he said.

I put a piece of rib in my mouth and chewed for a long time.

"David, my birthday's on March 19th. Figured out what you're getting me yet?"

He froze for a second.

"Your birthday? Oh, right. It's coming up. What do you want?"

"Whatever."

He nodded and lowered his head, going back to his food.

I set down my fork.

"I want a bracelet."

His fork paused. Just once.

"What kind of bracelet?"

"A Cartier one."

I looked straight at his face and said each word slowly.

"Rose gold. Love collection."

The air went still for two seconds.

Then he smiled, all casual, like we were talking about the weather.

"That's a little too expensive, isn't it? Let's wait until I get my bonus."

"Sure."

I didn't bring it up again. There was no point. Those two seconds of silence had already told me enough. He knew that model. He didn't even ask how much it cost.

A numbers-and-engineering guy who knew nothing about jewelry had heard me say "Cartier Love collection" and asked neither what it was, how much it cost, nor why I wanted it. He knew it too well.

He'd just bought one.

After dinner, he went into the study. While I was washing dishes, I secretly opened my banking app. In our seven years of marriage, I've always managed the payroll card his salary goes into.

He takes home 6,000 dollars monthly. After the 2,200-dollar mortgage and roughly 1,700 dollars in living expenses, he saves just over 2,000 dollars. The bracelet cost 29,000 dollars. Even without spending a cent, saving that much would take nearly a year and a half.

So where the hell had the money come from?

I closed the banking app and dried the last bowl. That question could wait until tomorrow.