I met Arthur at a book club, drawn to his humor and sincerity. We quickly fell in love and married two years later, building what felt like a solid life together. With our son Ben, routines became our comfort pancakes, park walks, cozy movie nights. I believed in our bond, never imagining there might be secrets lurking underneath.
At his father’s funeral, surrounded by grief and whispered condolences, Ben crawled under the table and innocently shattered my world. “Daddy touched the lady’s leg,” he whispered, pointing at Rachel, Arthur’s longtime friend. My heart sank Rachel had always been close, too close. Arthur brushed it off, but something in his eyes told me not to.
