That morning, my life split in two—the world before I knew, and the world after.
Thomas and I had shared a quiet dinner the night before. He’d kissed me on the cheek, asked about my day, smiled that same easy smile I once loved. Nothing about him hinted that betrayal was brewing beneath the surface.
For a moment, I thought I might collapse. Then something inside me shifted. I wasn’t going to fall apart. I wasn’t going to scream or confront him. I was going to be smarter.
I took screenshots of every email, every attachment, every plan he’d discussed. I backed them up and sent them to a private email address I hadn’t used in years. Then I carefully closed his laptop, leaving everything exactly as I’d found it.
When Thomas came home that evening, I smiled. I cooked his favorite dinner. I laughed at his stories. I played the part of the trusting wife one last time.
But in my heart, a quiet storm was forming.
The Folder Called “Freedom”
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