My once modest and sweet wife, Mary, suddenly had a bunch of Victoria’s Secret lingerie, with clear signs of it being grabbed and stretched. When I asked her about it, she said it was her sister’s. I called her sister to confirm, and after hearing the explanation, I let out a sigh of relief. That was until one night when I saw a message pop up on her phone: “Manny, are you awake? I’ve had too much to drink, and I really miss you.” Rage flooded my chest. I wasn’t about to let them walk all over me—I’d show them that even a nice guy like me isn’t someone you can mess with! That day, Mary was taking a shower, and I wasn’t feeling well after eating something bad, so I rushed straight into the bathroom. She was startled, standing under the running water, and I laughed, saying, “C’mon, we’re married! No need to be shy!” I sat on the toilet, trying to relieve my stomach while admiring her body. Mary worked as a part-time dance instructor, and her figure was killer. At 5’7″ with a gorgeous face, she was hard to resist. I couldn’t help but reach out and grab her hand, “Babe, you smell so good.” “Stop it! I’m tired; just let me rest,” she replied, brushing me off. Annoyed by her cold reaction, I stood up immediately, without even wiping, and snapped, “You haven’t been sneaking around behind my back, have you?!” Mary turned on me angrily, spraying me with the showerhead, soaking me from head to toe, and yelled, “Manny Rogers, are you out of your mind?!” Seeing her so mad, I quickly backed down. “Calm down, I was just joking. But we haven’t done anything in a month, you know?” Mary ignored me, drying off her body and reaching for her lingerie. It was then that I noticed the design of the lingerie—it was pink, delicate, and something I’d never seen her wear before. “Mary! Where did you get this lingerie?” She glanced down at it, then gave me a playful push on the head. “It’s supposed to be a surprise for you, silly!” But I could clearly see this lingerie had been worn many times already. There were even noticeable grab marks on it. “Are you kidding me?! This is clearly old!” My face flushed with anger, and I could feel a burning sensation on my forehead. Mary, pulling me by the arm, pouted and said in a playful tone, “Don’t get mad, babe. I went to my sister Helen’s house this afternoon, and their faucet broke. I got soaked from head to toe, including my lingerie. So, I borrowed a set of clothes from her closet.” “I’m calling Helen right now!” I shot back, reaching for my phone. I dialed her number, pretending to make small talk before I got to the point. “Helen, Mary said she got drenched at your place this afternoon. I hope she didn’t cause too much trouble.” “Manny, my husband gave her a set of clothes to change into. Why, are you checking up on her?” “Oh, no, no, just calling to check in!” I replied with a laugh, trying to keep it casual, and then hung up. Now it was Mary’s turn to be mad. She accused me of not trusting her and refused to speak to me. I quickly grabbed her hand, trying to make things right. “Honey, please don’t be upset! I’m sorry for doubting you. I’m an idiot. What can I do to make it up to you?” Unexpectedly, she softened and replied, “Only if you add my name to the property.”
Mary was referring to the penthouse I had bought with my business earnings. It had been sitting vacant, and the property deed only had my name on it. Recently, the area had been marked for development, and with the housing restrictions lifted, the property value had tripled. Since we hadn’t put her name on it, the penthouse was technically considered my pre-marital asset. Although I had already bought a marital home under her name and paid the down payment, I had been considering adding her name to the penthouse as well. After all, we were about to get married, and I didn’t want her to feel left out. So I seized the opportunity and said, “No problem, baby. We’ll head down to the County Property Office this week.” I loved Mary deeply and was willing to give her everything I had. Mary beamed with joy and threw her arms around me, kissing me like crazy. “You’re the best husband ever!” I laughed, kissed her back, and turned off the lights. Later, I sat on the edge of the bed, lighting a cigarette while Mary went to take a shower. Her phone was charging on the nightstand. Compelled by some force, I picked it up, unable to resist the urge to look through it. I remembered her password. We never checked each other’s phones before, but we were about to get married, so what harm could there be in a little peek? When I opened her Instagram, I found nothing. Not a single chat. Even our conversations were deleted. That was her habit. She always deleted chat records after talking. But that didn’t stop me. I switched to her payment history to check for any unusual transfers. Besides the $1,000 transfers I gave her on holidays, I noticed she had received another $1,000 from someone else. The contact was labeled “J,” and the profile picture was a tiger’s head—clearly a man, and judging by the profile, an older one. I quickly snapped a picture of the transaction, my hands trembling with anger as I put her phone back. I never expected Mary to betray me like this. If I wasn’t mistaken, she was cheating on me. Otherwise, why would someone send her $1,000 on holidays? Anger boiled inside me, and I wanted to storm into the bathroom and confront her. But I took a deep breath, pushing my fury down. Mary had never mentioned adding her name to the penthouse before—why did she suddenly bring it up now? I suspected it had something to do with whoever she was cheating with. Maybe they were plotting to take my property. The thought sent a chill down my spine. I had to find out who this guy was. Just then, a message came through on my phone. “Manny, are you awake? I’ve had too much to drink, and I really miss you.”
My hand shook as I read the message. It was from Rhonda, Mary’s best friend, who had a sultry look. At a couple of dinners, she had given me flirty glances when Mary wasn’t looking, even played footsie under the table, but I’d always brushed her off. After all, my fiancée was far more beautiful. Still, I never thought Rhonda would actually message me. Not wanting Mary to see it, I quickly deleted the message, deciding to ignore it. Mary said she was going to bed, so I didn’t disturb her. I lay there, wide awake, thinking about the contents of her phone. I was sure Mary was cheating. But all I had to go on was a tiger-head profile picture. I had to figure out who this guy was. I considered following her but worried she’d notice. Then, a better idea came to me—something foolproof. I remembered a programmer, Mick Prieston, whom I had met during business. The next day, I contacted Mick and asked if there was a way to install tracking software on someone’s phone. Mick said he could do it. All he needed was her phone model and some time to set it up. Later, while Mary was in the shower, I installed the software on her phone. Now, I could track her movements in real time. To my surprise, her routine was very consistent. After work, she would head to the dance studio for an hour, then stop by her sister’s house, staying there for an hour before coming home. Could it be that I was overthinking this? Maybe she wasn’t cheating after all? Still, I wasn’t ready to drop it. Maybe she was meeting her lover at the dance studio. I decided to follow her, just to be sure. I decided to follow Mary to see who she was meeting. Wearing sunglasses and a baseball cap, I rented a car, making sure I wouldn’t be recognized. I called in sick from work and tailed Mary to her office. She worked as a secretary, and I had once suspected she might be involved with her boss. But her boss was a woman, so that idea quickly fell apart. Still, there was always the possibility she was involved with one of her coworkers. Office romances aren’t unheard of. I spent the entire day hanging around the building, watching from a distance. I could see her through the window, printing documents and chatting with some of her male colleagues. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary. Maybe the affair wasn’t happening at the office? As the workday ended, I saw Mary leave the building. I followed her from a distance. To my surprise, a sleek black Lincoln pulled up beside her. She said something to the driver, then got into the passenger seat. I immediately started my car and followed. The Lincoln stopped outside her dance studio, and to my relief, two other women from her office got out of the car with her. They had carpooled. So much for that lead.
I parked outside the studio and waited for over an hour, watching through the large glass window. Inside, Mary was graceful and poised, teaching a dance class. She was wearing athletic clothes, looking as stunning as ever. Honestly, with a body and face like hers, it wasn’t surprising other men might have their eyes on her. But after watching for a while, no men approached her. No one suspiciously lingered around her. After the class ended, she packed up her things and left for her sister Helen’s house, just like she always did. Mary had a close relationship with Helen, and she’d often spend an hour or so at her place after work. I watched her enter the building and saw the elevator stop on Helen’s floor. By the end of the day, I was left feeling confused and frustrated. There didn’t seem to be any real evidence of her cheating. Maybe I had just been paranoid, letting my mind run wild. As I stood in front of the elevator, trying to figure it all out, a familiar voice called out behind me. “Manny, what are you doing here?” I turned to find Helen standing there, looking surprised. “Hey, uh, I’m looking for Mary,” I said quickly. “My phone’s dead, and I forgot my keys. I figured she’d be here, so I came to find her.” Helen smiled and hit the elevator button. “Yeah, she’s here. Come on up.” I followed her up to the apartment. “You’re home early,” Helen said as we rode up. “Usually Mary stays for dinner before heading home. How come you’re off work so soon?” “Oh, just an easy day today,” I mumbled, avoiding the question. Helen unlocked the door and called out, “Honey, I’m home!” From inside, a man’s voice responded—it was David, Helen’s husband. “Babe! Great timing. Oh, Manny’s here too? Guess I’ll have to cook for three tonight!” David came out of the living room, looking a little surprised to see me but quickly recovered with a warm smile. “Hey, man, long time no see. Come on in.” “Where’s Mary?” Helen asked, hanging her purse by the door. “She’s in the shower,” David replied. “She said she worked up a sweat at the studio.” Helen chuckled. “You’ve got to tell her to stop coming over here to use our shower!” Something about this didn’t sit right with me. Mary usually showered again when she got home in the evenings. Why would she need to take a shower here, too? Just as I was mulling over that, Mary stepped out of the bathroom, towel-drying her hair. “Manny? What are you doing here?” she asked, sounding surprised. I repeated the lie I had told Helen, and Mary nodded thoughtfully. “Okay, well, let’s head home.” “Why don’t you two stay for dinner?” Helen suggested. “No, we really should get going—” Mary started, but Helen cut her off with a teasing grin. “Oh, I see! Trying to sneak off for some alone time, huh? Don’t let me stop you.” Before we left, David chimed in, “You two should get married already, huh?” I froze for a second, then nodded awkwardly. “Yeah, we’re working on it.” David flashed me a smile. “Mary’s a great girl. You’re lucky, man. Hold on to her.”
We drove back home in silence. After following Mary all day and finding nothing, I was starting to think I had been overreacting. Maybe someone had simply sent her money as a gift. Perhaps there was no affair at all. That night, before bed, Mary brought up the subject of adding her name to the property deed again. Feeling guilty about doubting her, I agreed. “Okay, we’ll go to the County Property Office this week.” Mary was thrilled. That night, she was unusually affectionate. The next day, I went back to work and didn’t follow her. But around noon, I got an unexpected phone call—from Mick, the programmer. “Hey, man, are you alone? Can you talk?” My heart skipped a beat. What did Mick have for me? I left my desk and found a quiet spot. “Yeah, what’s up?” “We don’t usually talk outside of business, but I felt like I had to tell you this,” Mick said, his voice low and serious. “What is it?” “I’ve got a recording for you. The software I installed on Mary’s phone records everything. I think you need to hear this.” A knot formed in my stomach as I opened my Instagram. Sure enough, Mick had sent me an audio file. “Make sure you listen to it when no one’s around,” Mick warned before hanging up. I hesitated for a moment, unsure if I was ready to hear whatever was on that recording. But curiosity got the better of me, and I hit play. The recording started with soft breathing and an unmistakable voice—Mary’s voice. “Don’t touch me like that, wait—” Before she could finish her sentence, I heard the sounds of kissing and muffled voices. Then, Mary’s voice came back, whispering, “David, be gentle. You’re hurting me.”
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