Trish had kept her promise. The number of the private investigator blinked at me on my phone screen. Caleb. Warren, Confidential Investigations.
I sat there for a long time, the hum of the engine filling the silence, my thumb hovering over the dial button. Once I made this call, there was no going back.
“Do it,” I whispered to myself, and pressed the call button.
It rang twice before a deep, professional voice answered. “Caleb Warren speaking.”
“Hi,” I said, steadying my voice. “My name’s Vikki Montgomery. I was referred to you by Trisha Doyle.”
“Ah, yes. Trish. I remember her. How can I help you, Mrs. Montgomery?”
His voice was calm, even friendly, but the formality of it made me shift in my seat. I wasn’t used to hearing my name like that, Mrs. Montgomery, not when it suddenly felt I was losing my husband.
“I… need to know something about someone, and I also want hjm followed,” I said carefully. “Discreetly.”
“Of course. May I ask who?”
I hesitated. Saying it aloud felt like crossing a line. “My husband.”
There was no judgment in his voice, just quiet efficiency. “Understood. What are we looking for? Evidence of infidelity?”
I stared at the steering wheel, my throat tightening. “I don’t know. Maybe. I just need to know the truth.”
“All right,” he said, his tone gentle now. “Can you send me his name, a photo, and his usual work and home addresses?”
“Yes.” I swallowed. “And there’s a woman, too. Her name’s Amelia. She’s a doctor. They… work together.”
“Got it. I’ll start tonight. You’ll get daily updates.”
My pulse quickened. “That soon?”
“I don’t waste time, Mrs. Montgomery,” he said, a faint smile in his tone. “I’ll be in touch.”
When the line went dead, I sat back, staring out the windshield. The neighborhood was quiet, leaves rustling in the soft wind, a couple walking their dog across the street. Everything looked painfully normal.
But inside, I felt like something had cracked open.
I wasn’t the quiet wife anymore. I was the woman who had just hired a man to spy on her husband.
20:41 Wed, Jan 28
Chapter 47
And for the first time in months, I felt in control.
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72
55 Vouchers
Later that evening, I set the dinner table even though I knew Edmund probably wouldn’t come home early. He rarely did these days. Still, I laid out two plates, poured wine, and lit the candles. Old habits die hard.
When the clock hit eight–thirty and the food had gone cold, I sat down anyway and started eating alone.
The sound of the front door unlocking made me pause.
He was home.
I quickly wiped my mouth and stood up as he walked in, loosening his tie, looking tired and worn, but not guilty. Not even close.
“Hey,” he said with a faint smile. “You’re still up.”
“Yeah,” I said evenly. “Dinner’s ready.”
He hesitated. “I ate at the office.”
Office. Right.
I forced a smile that didn’t reach my eyes. “Of course you did.”
He looked at me for a second, as if sensing something in my tone, but then nodded and headed upstairs. I stared after him, my fork trembling in my hand.
By the time I went to bed, he was already asleep on his side of the bed, his breathing deep and steady. I watched him in the dark, my chest heavy.
How long had we been living like this, pretending?
I rolled over, my back to him, and closed my eyes. The smell of his cologne still lingered between us, and it made me ache with something that felt dangerously close to grief.
By the next morning, I woke up early, but he was already gone. His side of the bed was cold.
He’d left before sunrise again.
I walked into the kitchen, made myself coffee, and scrolled through my phone until I saw the message notification.
Unknown number: Mrs. Montgomery, this is Caleb. He left the house at 6:05 a.m. and drove to the hospital. At 9:20, he had coffee with the woman you mentioned. They seemed… close. More updates soon.
My stomach turned.
I read the message three times, each word slicing a little deeper.
Coffee. Close.
20:41 Wed, Jan 28
Chapter 47
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My breath hitched as I clutched the steering wheel, trying to calm myself. I wasn’t sure if I wanted to scream or laugh.
Caleb’s voice came through the car speaker. “Do you want me to keep recording?”
“Yes,” I whispered, my voice breaking. “Every second.”
When they finally stood up and walked away, I stayed in the car long after they were gone. My hands trembled as I pulled out my phone and stared at the wedding photo I still kept as my wallpaper.
The woman smiling in that picture looked happy. Whole. Stupidly hopeful.
I didn’t recognize her anymore.
That night, Edmund came home late again. I was sitting on the couch, the TV on low, pretending to read a magazine.
“Hey,” he said, dropping his keys on the table. “Long day.”
“Yeah?” I said quietly. “Who with?”
He froze, halfway to the stairs. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Nothing,” I said, flipping a page I wasn’t actually reading. “Just asking.”
His eyes narrowed slightly. “You’ve been… off lately.”
I met his gaze, my heart pounding. “Maybe I’m just tired of pretending everything’s fine.”
He didn’t reply. He just stood there, jaw tight, before finally muttering, “I don’t want to fight.”
“Then don’t lie.”
He flinched, barely noticeable, but I saw it. Then he turned and walked upstairs, his footsteps echoing down
the hall.
I waited until I heard the bedroom door close before I exhaled, the tension draining from my body. My hands were shaking so badly I almost dropped my phone,
Caleb’s text came in a few seconds later.
Caleb: Got more photos. You might want to see them before he deletes the trail.
I stared at the screen for a long moment, then typed back:
Me: Send everything.
By midnight, my inbox was full – photos, videos, timestamps. Evidence.
And yet, staring at them didn’t make me feel vindicated. It made me feel hollow.
20:41 Wed, Jan 28
Chapter 47
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I didn’t know what I wanted anymore. To expose him? To leave him? Or to have him look at me the way he
looked at her?
I lay awake until dawn, watching the faint light spill across the ceiling.
For years, I’d built my life around being Mrs. Edmund Montgomery – the perfect wife, the elegant hostess, the woman with everything. But now, that title felt like a cage.
Still, I wasn’t done. Not yet.
I picked up my phone and typed another message to Caleb.
Me: I want to know everything about her. Where she lives. Who she’s with. Every single thing.
The reply came quickly.
Caleb: Understood. You’ll have it by tomorrow.
I placed the phone on the nightstand and turned toward the empty side of the bed.
My voice came out soft, almost trembling. “You wanted to lie, Edmund?” I whispered into the darkness. “Then I’ll learn how to play your game better.”
And as I stared at the ceiling, sleepless and cold, I realized something terrifying.
This wasn’t about saving my marriage anymore.
It was about control.
And I wasn’t planning to lose again.
B
AD
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Sara Lili is a daring romance writer who turns icy landscapes into scenes of fiery passion. She loves crafting hot love stories while embracing the chill of Iceland’s breathtaking cold.
