Chapter 3

On Sunday morning, Julian didn't sit down at the dining table.

I had fried the eggs, toasted the sourdough he liked, and poured coffee into his favorite mug printed with a blue lighthouse. By the time I set out the utensils, he finally came out of the bedroom, fully dressed to go out.

"Something came up at the community center," he said.

I glanced at the clock on the wall. "Isn't today your day off?"

"A pipe burst in the children's classroom. The repair crew needs someone to unlock the door."

He spoke very naturally, grabbing a bite of the toast I had just made as he talked.

Sunday breakfast was one of the very few habits that had never changed since we got married.

Work could be busy, and plans with friends could wait until the afternoon, but Sunday mornings belonged strictly to us.

Julian once said that these were the two hours in a marriage that should never be compromised.

"How long will it take?" I asked.

"Hard to say. Don't wait up for me for lunch."

He leaned down, kissed my cheek, and left swiftly.

Once the door clicked shut, the room went eerily silent.

I sat at the table, watching the steam slowly stop rising from his cup of coffee.

In the afternoon, I went to the supermarket on the north side of town.

At checkout, the elderly customer in front of me had forgotten her coupons, holding up the line for a long time.

I pushed my cart over to a lane near the window. My gaze casually drifted past the glass, catching sight of two people walking out of a gourmet boutique shop on the far side of the parking lot.

I recognized Julian's jacket first.

Ivy was walking beside him, holding a bouquet of flowers wrapped in brown kraft paper.

Julian had both hands full of shopping bags. The neck of a wine bottle peeked out from one, while the other was packed with steaks, desserts, and a bunch of fresh herbs.

She said something, and he lowered his head, laughing.

It was the exact same laugh I had heard while lying in the dark that night.

The cashier asked if I needed paper bags, but I didn't hear her. I only nodded hastily after she repeated herself.

I didn't rush outside, nor did I hide behind the displays to tail them.

I simply pulled out my phone and dialed Julian's number.

Through the glass window, I saw him stop in his tracks. He pulled out his phone, and as soon as he saw the caller ID, the smile on his face vanished completely.

"Is the repair finished?" I asked.

There was a two-second silence on the other end of the line.

"Not yet. Another issue came up."

"What kind of issue?"

Ivy seemed to sense something was off and turned to look at him.

Julian turned his back to her. "Maren, it's not convenient for me to talk right now."

"Then let me say it for you." I gripped the phone tightly. "So, the community center's burst pipe managed to flood its way all the way up to the north side of town?"

His body went completely rigid.

A few minutes later, he found me in the parking lot.

Ivy was nowhere to be seen, and those shopping bags had already been placed into her car.

"I was planning to tell you," he said.

"Tell me what? That you didn't go to work, or that you went shopping with her?"

"We just had lunch."

"Steak, red wine, dessert, and flowers?"

"She bought the flowers for herself." He lowered his voice. "Do you really have to interrogate me in a parking lot?"

A rush of shame flared up against my face.

He was clearly the one lying, yet the way he looked at me made it seem as though I were the one doing something embarrassing.

"Why did you lie to me?"

"Because I knew you'd act like this."

The wind blew through the hair resting on his forehead. He looked exhausted, aggrieved, and even somewhat disappointed, as though he had no choice but to lie just to avoid a senseless scene.

"So this is my fault again?"

"I didn't say that."

"But that's what you meant."

I finally threw back the exact words he had dumped on me before.

Julian shifted his gaze, staying silent for a moment. "Ivy hasn't been in a good mood lately. I was just keeping her company over lunch. You're making this way too complicated."

We didn't say a single word on the drive home.

That evening, Julian poured the cold coffee into the sink, then asked if I wanted to watch a movie together as if nothing had happened.

I stared at him, suddenly realizing that Ivy wasn't what I truly feared.

What terrified me was that my husband could now look me dead in the eye, lie, and then sit down next to me to keep playing the role of a trustworthy partner.

After that day, I stopped asking if there was anything going on between Julian and Ivy.

Instead, I began to question what I actually had left to believe in him.