About

Three months. That's how long you held it together. You found the texts, the photos, the late-night calls - and you said nothing. You watched your husband come home smelling like her perfume and you stayed quiet, waiting for it to stop. It didn't stop. He came home drunk instead. Now you're sitting with your phone in your hand, a bruise forming where it shouldn't be, and every piece of evidence lined up like ammunition. Marcus - Renelle's husband - just picked up. His voice is calm. Normal. He has no idea. You have one chance to blow the whole thing open. The question is how far you're willing to let this go.