There was a thread. Not recent, but archived.

She opened it.

"Last night was unforgettable. I can't stop thinking about you. You make me feel... dangerous."

"You're the only one who sees me. She's a shell. A habit. Not a choice."

Vanessa's grip tightened until her knuckles turned white.

Her stomach clenched.

She set the tablet down, hands trembling, and walked to the sink.

The coffee burned her tongue.

Camille met her at their favorite coffee spot. A quiet café with plants in every corner and soft jazz humming from ceiling speakers.

Vanessa slid the tablet across the table. Camille read the email, then looked up slowly.

"Do you want me to say it, or are you ready to admit it?"

Vanessa blinked. "Say it."

"He's cheating."

The words landed like bricks.

Camille took her hand. "I'm so sorry, Vee. But we both knew something was off."

Vanessa nodded, silent tears spilling down her cheeks.

"What are you going to do?"

Vanessa stared out the window. "I don’t know yet. But this... this can’t be my life."

Michael came home late.

Vanessa waited, curled on the couch in silence, lights off.

He jumped slightly when he saw her. "Jesus, you scared me. Why are you in the dark?"

"Because it's easier to lie when you can't see my face, right?"

He froze. "What are you talking about?"

She stood and walked over slowly. "Kara Monroe. Does that ring a bell?"

He opened his mouth.

Closed it.

Tried again. "That’s... not what you think."

She laughed. A hollow, aching sound. "Do you even respect me enough to lie better?"

He stepped forward. "Let me explain. Please."

"You don't have to. I read everything. You're not confused. You're not lost. You're just a coward."

He looked wounded, but she was already climbing the stairs.

That night, he slept in the guest room.