Endless seconds passed.
Finally, his shoulders slumped.
—Her name is Clara.
That name sounded strange in my kitchen.
—It started six months ago.
Six months.
Six months of shared breakfasts, fake hugs, and empty promises.
"It wasn't going to last," he added, almost as if making an apology.
—But it lasted long enough to involve our son.
This left him speechless.
"I thought I could do it," she murmured.
—Managing what? A double life?
I looked at him with a clarity I had never had before.
It wasn't just about infidelity.
It was a betrayal of trust.
It was using my routine as an alibi.
That was the burden that weighed on Ethan.
"Do you love him?" I asked.
He hesitated.
And that doubt spoke louder than any confession.
-I don't know.
"I know one thing," I replied firmly. "I can't live like this."
That night, we slept in separate rooms.
The next morning, I followed my usual routine.
