The car ride home was silent, save for the rhythmic tapping of Vanessa's manicured nails against her clutch. Michael drove with one hand on the wheel, the other scrolling his emails at red lights.

She stared out the window, the city lights blurring like her thoughts. In another life, this night would have ended in laughter and tangled sheets.

Instead, she walked into their house ahead of him, heels clicking on the hardwood floor like a countdown.

He disappeared into his home office.

She went upstairs, kicked off her heels, and stood in front of the mirror.

The dress fit perfectly. Her makeup was flawless. Her hair curled just right. She looked like a woman in love, celebrating.

But her eyes looked empty. Vanessa changed into her robe, wiped off her lipstick, and climbed into bed. Michael never came upstairs.

The next morning, Vanessa brewed coffee before the sun rose. She needed clarity, but caffeine would do for now.

Michael had already left for work. Early. Again.

She moved through the kitchen like a ghost, reaching for the creamer when something buzzed. His tablet, forgotten on the counter.

She stared at it. A full minute.

Then picked it up.

It was unlocked.

Her heart hammered as she opened his email.

Most were work-related. Some receipts. She was about to close it when a name caught her eye: Kara Monroe.