Chapter 1: The Smallest Betrayal

Discovering my husband’s affair turned out, in the end, to be almost laughably trivial. I still remember the clink of his fork on my plate, the way it made my skin crawl.

There’s a strange numbness in the way real betrayals unfold—not with shouting or slammed doors, but with something as silly as noticing an odd detail over dinner.

At a get-together with friends, he—always so reserved—suddenly decided to serve food to everyone at the table.

To anyone else, it would’ve seemed like a thoughtful gesture, maybe the sign of a proud dad-to-be. But for Ethan, who’d rather schedule a root canal than play host, it was like watching a cat try to fetch a stick. I remember the way my friends exchanged glances, half amused, half confused.

Later that night, I overheard him quietly reciting a line from "Roman Holiday" in the study:

"In order to shake your hand, I shook hands with everyone."

Heh.

It’s the kind of line that sticks in your teeth—not quite bitter, but not sweet either. I stood in the dark hallway, my hand resting absently on the baby bump, and wondered when the world had gotten so ironic.