I was not going to confront him.

Not yet.

A confrontation, in the heat of my discovery, would have given him what every cornered liar wants: warning, and time, and the chance to spin the story, to apologize, to promise, to manage me back into the marriage while he covered his tracks.

I was not going to give him any of that.

So for six days, I said nothing.

I smiled, and I cooked, and I cared for our daughter, and I watched.