Theater: NovelMaster | Language: English | NEW
Synopsis
I got into a minor fender bender while driving my husband’s car, so I pulled the dashcam footage to submit an insurance claim.
Before I could even scroll to the timestamp of the accident, last night’s video froze me in my tracks.
A strange woman was sitting in the passenger seat. Her belly was noticeably swollen, at least five or six months along.
The first thing she said when she buckled in was, "The baby kicked today."
My husband’s voice came through the car speakers, filled with an excitement I had never heard before:
"Really? Let me listen."
Then, they started talking about baby names.
Boy names, girl names, which middle name would sound best.
My fingers went stiff. I started scrolling backward through the files.
She was there in almost every single one.
Same pickup spot. Same route. My husband would drop her off at her place first, then drive home alone.
I shut off the video, my entire body trembling.
My phone buzzed. It was my husband, Ethan.
"Babe, I saw the collision alert on the car app. Are you okay? Are you hurt?"
I spoke very slowly:
"I'm fine. The car took some damage, so I'm pulling the dashcam footage right now."
There was a momentary pause in his breathing on the other end.
"Honestly, if it's not bad, don't bother pulling the dashcam. It’s a pain to export. Just wait for me to get home and I’ll handle it."
Ethan’s tone sounded completely casual, as if he were discussing something trivial.
I stared at the woman’s profile on the screen. She was running a hand through her hair, a delicate gold chain shining on her wrist.
"No. I need to see it."
My voice was surprisingly steady.
"Seriously, babe, you don’t need to go through all that trouble. Insurance doesn't always need dashcam video for a little scratch. Just snap a few pictures, send them to me, and I’ll take care of the rest. Head home and rest."
Ethan kept talking.
His tone was coaxing, almost sweet.
I used to fall for this every single time.
Whenever he used that voice, I’d think to myself how gentle and attentive he was, how lucky I was to marry him.
Now, it just made me sick to my stomach.
"You shouldn't have to deal with this annoying stuff. Be good, just go home."
Ethan added.
A sudden urge to laugh bubbled up in my chest.
*You shouldn't have to deal with it.*
He always used to say that.
He promised he would handle all the heavy lifting in our life, and that my only job was to be happy and pampered.
And I believed him.
I believed him without a single doubt.
"Ethan, do you have a guilty conscience?"
I asked quietly.
The line stayed dead silent for three whole seconds.
"What? Of course not! Why would I feel guilty?"
Ethan’s voice jumped half an octave, loaded with the righteous indignation of an innocent man.
"I'm just trying to save you the headache! Why are you jumping to weird conclusions?"
I kept staring at the woman’s belly on my screen.
It was round and heavy, definitely five or six months.
The seatbelt rested snug beneath her bump, and she instinctively kept one hand cradling it. It was such a practiced motion.
"Just kidding. Can't believe you took it seriously."
The corner of my mouth twitched.
"Anyway, I'm busy. Talk later."
"Babe..."
Before he could finish, I hung up.
I grabbed my phone and recorded several clips directly from my laptop screen.
I zoomed in tight, capturing the woman’s face, her baby bump, the gold bracelet, and the clear timestamps on the footage.
Then, I checked the oldest file on the card.
Three and a half months ago.
Which meant they were already together long before that.
The dashcam simply overwrote anything older than three and a half months.
I transferred every single file onto a USB flash drive, pulled it out, and buried it in the deepest zippered pocket of my purse.
Only then did I handle the accident.
I snapped photos of the dent, called the insurance company, and completed the report.
Through it all, my hands wouldn't stop shaking.
I sat in the car for a long time.
Outside, dusk gave way to complete darkness. The fluorescent lights in the underground garage hummed a low, droning buzz.
I couldn't wrap my head around it.
Ethan and I had been married for four years and together for two before that. Six years in total.
In six years, we had never had a real, explosive fight.
He didn't smoke, rarely drank, deposited his paychecks into our shared pool, and used my birthday as his phone passcode.
Whenever we disagreed, he was always the first to apologize, regardless of who was right or wrong. He never missed an anniversary, a birthday, or a holiday.
All our friends and family told me how lucky I was.
My mom couldn't stop bragging about Ethan, saying he was more devoted than a biological son could ever be.
He had always told me that if I didn't want kids, we didn't have to have them. He promised he would always respect my choice.
Last year during a routine checkup, the doctor told me I had a tilted uterus and might have a harder time conceiving.
I cried for days, feeling like a broken woman.
Ethan had held me tight and told me it didn't matter. He said women weren't obligated to bear children.
He said he fell in love with *me*, not my ability to breed.
He said as long as I was happy, he was content.
Back then, I clung to him and cried my heart out, convinced I had found the love of a lifetime.
Yet the man I just saw on that screen was a man thrilled to become a father.He was about to become a father.
And I was completely in the dark.
I unlocked my phone and scrolled back to my texts with my best friend, Harper, from three months ago.
I had told Harper back then that I was planning on having a baby next year. I had made peace with it; I genuinely wanted to give Ethan a child.
Looking back now, it was a sick joke.
My phone buzzed.
A text from Ethan popped up.
[Babe, is everything sorted out?]
I stared at the screen, my knuckles turning white.
He was testing the waters.
He didn't give a damn about the car. He only cared whether I had watched that dashcam footage.
[All done.]
I texted back.
[Great. No overtime for me tonight, heading home now!]
I stared at the words *no overtime*.
Suddenly, memories of the past several months flashed through my mind. He had stayed late almost every single night.
He always blamed tight project deadlines and demanding bosses.
I never doubted him for a second.
Because every time he stayed late, he’d send me a live location tag right from his office building.
Now I knew why. He was spending that time driving her home.
I checked his phone every week and never found anything suspicious.
Because he scrubbed every text, erased every trace.
Ruthlessly efficient.
Three months ago, I noticed newborn clothes in his Amazon search history.
I casually asked him about it at the time: "Thinking about babies?"
He laughed it off, claiming a coworker had just had a baby and he was looking for a shower gift.
I didn't press further.
Now I remembered: those clothes were newborn sizes.
It wasn't a baby shower gift. It was bought for his own child.
I started the engine and drove out of the underground garage.
Night had fully fallen outside. The streetlights flickered on, casting a harsh glare across the asphalt.
I rolled down the window. The cool breeze whipped against my face.
My head grew clearer and colder with every passing second.
When I got home, Ethan was already there.
He was in the kitchen wearing an apron, stirring a pot of soup bubbling on the stove.
On the living room coffee table sat a dessert box—tiramisu from my favorite bakery downtown.
That bakery was a thirty-minute detour from his office.
I used to think of it as a gesture of deep love.
Now, all I could wonder was whether he treated that other woman the exact same way.
Or perhaps he had bought mine on his way back from dropping her off.
"You're back?"
Ethan poked his head out of the kitchen with a warm smile.
"Come here, let me look at you. Did you get hurt?"
He wiped his hands on a towel and walked over, scanning me up and down until his eyes caught my elbow.
"Is that a bruise?"
Frowning, he took my arm to examine it closely.
It was just a tiny purple mark. I hadn't even noticed it myself.
"I'm fine. It doesn't hurt."
I pulled my arm back.
Ethan didn't seem to notice my stiffness. He turned around, poured me a glass of warm water, and set it on the table.
"Be extra careful backing up next time. If you ever feel unsure, just call me. I'll park it for you."
He sat down next to me, casually resting his arm along the back of the sofa behind my shoulders.
"Babe, I was thinking... we haven't gone on a trip in a while."
His voice was gentle and sweet.
"Where do you want to go? Beach resort or a cabin in the mountains? I can take a few days off and take you away to unwind."
I looked at his face. A cold voice whispered in my head.
He was acting too normal.
Worrying over a tiny bruise, buying my favorite dessert, making soup, planning a vacation.
How could a cheating man act so flawlessly normal?
Unless, in his mind, he didn't believe he was doing anything wrong at all.
"What's wrong, babe?"Ethan finally picked up on my silence. He turned his head to study my face.
"Did the crash scare you that much?"
I held his gaze.
"Ethan."
"Yeah?"
"Would you ever cheat on me?"
The living room fell into dead silence.
Ethan paused for a beat, then chuckled softly.
It was that familiar, indulgent, affectionate laugh.
"What kind of crazy question is that?"
He reached out to ruffle my hair. I leaned away slightly, leaving his hand hanging in the air.
He didn't get annoyed. He simply pulled his hand back, making his tone even softer.
"How could I ever cheat on you? Don't you know how much you mean to me? Besides you, who else in this world could even catch my eye?"
He let out a quiet sigh.
"Did that little fender bender rattle you, or did someone put stupid ideas in your head? Stop overthinking. Your husband has nothing to hide. I’m an open book."
He took my hand into his, raised his other hand, and mimed taking an oath.
"If I, Ethan, ever betray you, may lightning strike me down on the spot."
Every single word was spoken with absolute conviction.
His eyes were candid, his demeanor calm and confident.
In the past, I would have laughed, swatted his arm, and let it go.
"Alright, stop spiraling."
He wrapped an arm around my shoulder, slid his other arm under my knees, and scooped me up into his arms.
I used to love it when he carried me like this. It made me feel so safe, so protected.
He carried me toward the bedroom, leaning down to press a soft kiss against my forehead.
"You had a rough day. Let's get to bed early. I'll give you a scalp massage."
The moment his lips grazed my skin, my stomach heaved with revulsion.
I violently shoved against his chest.
Ethan stumbled backward, nearly losing his footing. Shock flashed across his face.
"What's wrong?"
I took a step back, widening the distance between us.
"I'm exhausted. I just want to sleep."
I turned toward the bedroom.
At the threshold, I glanced back.
Ethan was still standing where I pushed him, his arms hanging awkwardly, his expression shifting from confusion to bewilderment.
And beneath that, something dark and guarded.
I closed the door and leaned my back against the wood.
Slowly, I slid down to the floor, burying my face in my knees.
I don't know how much time passed before two soft knocks rattled the door.
"Babe?"
Ethan's voice came from the hallway.
I didn't answer.
The doorknob jiggled, but the lock held firm. I had turned the deadbolt from the inside.
"Did you lock the door?"
A sharp edge of suspicion crept into his voice.
"What is going on with you today? Are you hiding something from me?"
A bitter laugh almost tore out of my throat.
*I'm* hiding something from *him*?
"If something's bothering you, just tell me. Don't bottle it up."
His tone turned stern, authoritative.
"We're husband and wife. There shouldn't be secrets between us."
I stood up from the floor and placed my hand on the metal doorknob.
The moment the icy metal bit into my palm, I yanked the door open.
Ethan stood on the threshold, his brow furrowed, lips pressed into a tight, defensive line.
He stared at me, waiting for me to speak.
"Who is she?"
My voice was flat. As flat as someone asking what we were having for dinner.
Ethan's pupils shrank almost imperceptibly.
It was so fast.
So fast that if I hadn't been boring my eyes into his, I would have missed it entirely.
"Who is who?"
His face seamlessly pivoted into genuine confusion.
"What are you talking about?"
"The dashcam."
I stared right into his eyes.
"I saw everything."
Chapters (3)
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Watch & Promotions
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