Every morning, I take my husband and our five-year-old son to the train station. That day, as we were walking home, my son squeezed my hand. “Mom, we can’t go home today.” “Why?”

Good morning. Has Daniel arrived yet?

The receptionist frowned slightly

—Daniel? No, ma'am. He requested to work from home this week. He said he needed to stay home due to family matters.

Family matters.

I felt a cold calm spread throughout my body.

Thank you, Ethan

Thank you for trusting me.

I went back to the car and stayed there for a long time.

I didn't cry.

Not yet.

First I needed to think.

I remembered small details from the last few months

Daniel insisted that I take Ethan with me every morning.

Daniel offered to stay home "to get reports done."

Daniel was taking a shower as soon as I came out.

I felt a knot in my stomach.

It wasn't a recent mistake.

It was a routine.

A routine my son had been silently observing.

That night I didn't confront Daniel

I made dinner.

I listened to his made-up story about endless meetings.

I watched him play with Ethan while I helped him brush his teeth

I wondered how he could kiss our son with the same mouth he had used to kiss another woman hours earlier.

When Ethan fell asleep, I sat across from Daniel in the kitchen.

"How was your day in the city?" I asked calmly.

"Exhausting," he replied without looking at me. "The traffic was terrible."

Liar.

Are you sure you went?

He looked up.

What does that mean?

I held him with my gaze.

—You didn't go to the office today.