Chapter 1

I stood frozen at the door, unsure whether I should walk in.

Just moments ago, I'd overheard a conversation between my wife, Nancy Stevenson, and my mother-in-law, Catalina Stevenson, that left me stunned. I even wondered if I was hallucinating.

But then I heard Nancy's voice again from inside the house. "Mom, next time Jorge's over, could you just go for a walk or something?"

Catalina said, "You brat, now you're trying to get rid of me? I'm just saying—what if Elliot comes home unexpectedly?"

This time, I knew my hearing hadn't failed me.

Rage shot through me like a bolt of lightning. My face flushed hot.

Nancy was lying to me. Catalina was lying to me. They were staging a whole performance, and I was the clueless fool in the front row.

The most humiliating part was that Nancy had the audacity to bring another man into our home openly.

I pressed my finger to the smart lock. The door clicked open.

Nancy stood in the hallway in her pajamas, eyes wide in shock when she saw me.

I glanced around the room—Jorge Ayers was already gone.

Nancy asked, "Elliot, you're back? Weren't you supposed to be visiting your parents?"

I was ready to explode. I wanted to ask her why, how, with what kind of conscience.

But then Catalina walked out of the bedroom, arms full of a bundled bedsheet, and I swallowed my anger.

Accusing them now, without hard proof, would get me nowhere.

All I had were a few overheard lines, nothing that could hold up.

Taking a deep breath, I forced a stiff smile onto my face.

"The flight got canceled last minute. I had no choice but to come back," I said.

Nancy nodded casually. "Oh, I see... then why didn't you call? I could've come and picked you up."

I almost laughed at that. call her, so she'd have time to hide the evidence?

I said, "Taking a cab was easier."

Then I turned to Catalina. "Catalina, are those our bedroom sheets you're carrying?"

"Yes," she replied. "They were dirty, so Nancy asked me to wash them."

I frowned and played innocent. "But... didn't we just change them yesterday?"

"They weren't washed properly last time." Nancy blurted out a clumsy excuse, and I let it slide.

"Oh, by the way, Catalina, didn't your boyfriend Jorge stop by today?" I deliberately emphasized the word boyfriend.

Catalina looked startled and dropped the sheets.

Nancy rushed over in a panic, scooped them up, and shoved them straight into the washer.

"Mom, seriously? You can't even hold a bedsheet properly?" Nancy scowled at her mother, clearly signaling her with her eyes—and not subtly.

"Nancy," I said calmly, "Catalina isn't here to be your maid. We can wash our own sheets."

There was weight in my words, but neither of them seemed to notice.

"Okay, Elliot. I'll do it myself next time," Nancy said with a quick nod.

"Catalina, you sure Jorge didn't come by?"

Catalina cleared her throat, eyes dodging mine. "He didn't. He's been busy with work."

"That's strange," I said. "I'm pretty sure I saw him earlier—hand in hand with a young woman."

At that, both Nancy and Catalina visibly blanched.

We'd been married for three years, and by all accounts, Nancy and I had a loving relationship.

Nancy had grown up with just her mother, and Catalina doted on her endlessly.

For years, Catalina had stayed single.

A few months ago, she moved in with us, saying she didn't want to be alone anymore.

I didn't object. I figured she deserved company at her age.

But what caught me off guard was how soon she announced she'd found herself a boyfriend.

At first, I thought it was good for her. Everyone deserved someone.

Then she brought him home, and I was floored.

"Elliot, Nancy, this is my boyfriend—Jorge," Catalina had said with a beaming smile.

I shook Jorge's hand after the initial shock wore off.

But Nancy didn't seem surprised at all, as if she'd known all along.

"You look shocked," Jorge said to me. "Didn't expect someone my age, huh? I'm guessing we're about the same, right?"

His words caught me completely off guard. He spoke with the ease of someone marking his territory.

"I'll admit—I didn't expect someone so young. What made you think we're the same age?" I asked, trying to sound polite despite my unease.

Jorge glanced briefly at Nancy, then back at Catalina. "Well, that's what my lovely girlfriend told me... right, darling?"

His saccharine tone and over-the-top sweetness made my stomach churn.

I didn't realize it back then, but that was his way of marking his claim—right in front of me.

He made sure to look at Nancy before turning to Catalina, like he was flaunting something.

And come to think of it, Nancy and Jorge always had too much casual contact.

When passing a cup, their hands would linger.

Once, Nancy even stumbled—right into Jorge's arms.

They pulled apart quickly, but Nancy was blushing, her smile shy.

Catalina coughed loudly, and only then did their eyes finally break apart.

At the time, I thought Catalina was jealous.

Now I knew that she was reminding them I was still there.

There had always been signs, but I was too blind, too trusting of Nancy to see any of them.

Even though Catalina said she and Jorge were dating, I never once saw them show affection—no hand-holding, no intimacy—just words about how happy they supposedly were.

I remember once asking Nancy about it.

"Don't you think Jorge might just be after Catalina's money? He's so young."

Nancy rolled her eyes. "What money? My mom can barely afford her own bills."

"You're probably right," I said. "Maybe they really are in love."

Nancy scoffed, muttered under her breath, "He's in love with me, actually."

But she said it so quietly that I didn't hear her.