MY HUSBAND’S CAR WAS COMPLETELY COVERED IN WOMEN’S LINGERIE WHEN I WALKED OUTSIDE
There was Grant, on stitched-together hotel security footage, walking into the same room with the same woman, every Thursday he’d told me he had “late meetings.”
And in the last clip, the woman turned toward the camera.
And I recognized her.
It was Vanessa. My husband’s business partner’s wife.
Which meant the anonymous number, the video, and quite possibly a driveway full of lingerie, all belonged to one very betrayed man.
Marcus. Grant’s partner. Vanessa’s husband.
And Marcus, unlike me, had known for a while.
PART 2
I did not scream. I did not throw coffee. I did not, as Grant clearly feared, make the scene the neighbors were hoping for.
