I Forgot to Tell My Husband the Security Camera Was Fixed Before My Business Trip

“The technician said it only took an hour to fix. Just a loose wire. So I brought it home and reinstalled it.” I paused. “I forgot to mention it to you.”

Daniel’s mouth opened, but no sound came out.

“I should probably also mention,” I continued in that same eerily calm voice, “that it’s been recording the entire time I was gone.”

His face went from pale to gray.

“Laura, I can explain—”

“Can you?” I asked. “Because I watched the footage. I saw everything. You and Marcus. The plan. The fake robbery. All of it.”

He started toward me, hands raised like he was approaching a frightened animal.

“Just let me—”

“Don’t,” I said sharply. “Don’t come closer.”

He stopped.

For a long moment, we just stood there in the apartment we’d built together, looking at each other across an impossible distance.

“How long have you been sleeping with her?” I asked.

“Laura—”

“How long?”

“Eight months,” he whispered.

I nodded. I’d already known, but hearing him say it out loud felt like a fresh cut.

“And she’s pregnant.”

“Yes.”

“And she’s blackmailing you.”

“It’s not—it’s complicated—”

“Is it?” I asked. “Seems pretty simple to me. You cheated. She got pregnant. Now she wants money to keep quiet. And instead of telling me the truth, you decided to rob us. To rob me.”

“It was our money—”

“It was my inheritance!” I shouted, the calm finally cracking. “From my grandmother! Money I’d been saving for years! And you just took it, and you were going to lie to my face about it!”

“I was going to pay you back!” he said desperately. “With the insurance money, we would have gotten most of it back—”

“That’s not the point!” I said. “The point is you lied. About everything. For months.”

“I’m sorry,” he said, and tears were actually running down his face now. “God, Laura, I’m so sorry. I made a mistake. I was weak and stupid and I hurt you. But we can fix this. We can go to counseling, we can work through it—”

“No,” I said simply.

“Laura, please—”

“I want you to pack a bag,” I said. “Take whatever you need for a few days. And leave.”

“This is my home too—”

“The condo is in my name,” I said. “My parents helped with the down payment, remember? Legally, this is my property. So right now, I’m asking you to leave. If you don’t, I’ll call the police and show them the footage of you planning a fake robbery. I’m sure they’d be very interested.”

His face crumpled.