Grace and I chatted a few more minutes, but when she left, it felt like she'd left something unsaid. It hung in the air where she'd been and I couldn't help but wonder what would ever make Grace think twice about sharing.
15
ELYSE
Istood at the bedroom window, staring out at the darkened backyard. Eden was curled up on the bed behind me, her soft snores the only sound in the otherwise quiet house. Drew had finally fallen asleep after a tense evening of stilted conversation following the intervention at Cat's café.
My friends meant well. I knew that. And part of me understood their concerns—even agreed with them. Following strangers around Clearwater with my phone pointed in their direction wasn't exactly the safest hobby I could have chosen. But every time I tried to imagine giving it up, something in my chest tightened like a fist.
I crossed to my dresser and opened the top drawer, pushing aside neatly folded scarves until my fingers found the smooth edge of a photograph. I rarely looked at it anymore. I didn't need to. The image was burned into my memory: Frank standing in our driveway, holding his baby, Francine smiling uncertainly beside him. I'd taken it from inside the house, my hands shaking so badly the focus was slightly off.
It was the last picture I ever took of my first husband.
I slid the photo back into its hiding place and closed the drawer. Drew didn't know I'd kept it. He wouldn't understand why I needed this reminder of the worst day of my life.
But that was just it. No one truly understood. Not even my closest friends.
They hadn't experienced that moment of absolute disorientation, when the foundation of my life crumbled beneath my feet. That nauseating realization that the person who promised to love me foreverno matter whathad been constructing an elaborate alternate reality right under my nose.
I moved to the bed and sat on the edge, careful not to wake Drew. In sleep, his face was relaxed, the worry lines that had been so prominent during our argument temporarily erased. I loved him with every fiber of my being, and I hated that I was causing him distress.
But I couldn't shake the memory of the texts and emails I'd received from women after I'd helped them:
"Thank you for giving me the truth I needed."
"I finally had the courage to leave him because of what you showed me."
"You helped me take back my power."
Each message was like a balm on that old wound Frank had left. Each woman I helped felt like redemption for the one who couldn't help herself, the woman I used to be, blindsided and humiliated.
Eden stirred, stretching her legs before settling back into sleep. I reached over to stroke her soft fur, drawing comfort from her steady presence.
Maybe my friends were right about the risks. Maybe Drew was justified in his worry. But they were looking at what I did through the lens of danger and deception, while I saw it as justice and empowerment.
Those men—the ones with their wedding rings tucked in their pockets, whispering sweet nothings to women who weren't their wives—they were the deceivers. They were the ones creating webs of lies that would eventually trap not just their spouses but their children, their extended families, everyone who trusted and believed in them.
Why should they get to operate in the shadows while their wives remained in the dark? Why should women like me have to learn the truth in the most devastating ways possible, when a few photographs could give them the information they deserved... on their terms?
I slipped under the covers and turned on my side, facing Drew's sleeping form. I'd promised him I would think about stopping, and I would. I'd weigh his concerns and my friends' warnings. I'd consider the risks more carefully.
But deep down, I knew I wouldn't—couldn't—stop completely. Not yet. Not while there were still women out there sending me desperate messages, women who reminded me so much of myself before Francine showed up at my door.
Maybe that made me selfish. Maybe it made me reckless. Or maybe it just made me human—someone still trying to make sense of her own pain by preventing it in others.
I reached out and gently traced the air above Drew's jawline with my finger. "I'm sorry," I whispered to his sleeping profile. "I know you're worried. I know you want me to stop. But these men—they shouldn't get to just walk away unscathed while they tear apart the lives of the people who trust them most."
Drew shifted in his sleep, his arm instinctively reaching for me. I moved closer, letting him pull me against his chest.
Tomorrow, I would try harder to see things from his perspective. I would acknowledge the risks more openly. I would be more careful, more discreet.
But I wouldn't stop. Not until I felt like I'd balanced the scales, at least a little bit.
Not until the voice inside me—the one that still sounded like that devastated woman sobbing in her doorway, staring at her husband's secret baby—finally went quiet.
ELYSE
After Ladies League the following Tuesday, I headed home to get changed. I was working at the bookstore at two.
