It started with a text. A wrong number — or so I thought.

"Last night was amazing. Can't stop thinking about you."

I stared at my husband's phone while he was in the shower. He never hid it from me. We had no secrets. Or so I believed.

The message was deleted by the time he came out. I watched him check his phone, watched his face stay perfectly calm.

"Everything okay?" I asked.

"Yeah. Just work stuff."

He kissed my forehead and left for the office.

I couldn't let it go. I checked phone records, credit card statements, his email. Nothing. No evidence. No proof. Just a feeling in my gut that something was wrong.