I had staged this whole terrible test hoping to be proven wrong, and his face gave me the answer before his mouth did, and the answer was that I had been right about all of it, for months, and had been calling my own correct instincts paranoia in order to keep my life.

The towel made it almost unbearably ordinary.

Not some grand scene of passion discovered — just a man in a towel, freshly showered, having summoned his lover the moment his wife was out, so casual in the routine of it that he hadn’t even locked his phone.

That was the part that told me how long it had been going on.

You only get that careless about a thing you’ve stopped being afraid of getting caught at.

“What are you doing here?” he asked me — too fast.