My husband was in the shower when his phone rang. “You still smell like me. Your wife has no clue,” his mistress laughed. My blood turned to pure ice. I recognized the voice instantly—it
I didn’t scream. I didn’t throw the phone at the wall. I just maintained dead, unblinking eye contact with him as my trembling thumb tapped the letter C. Ethan lunged forward, a panicked gasp escaping his throat as his wet feet slipped slightly on the hardwood floor. “Rachel, please, don’t—!” But the archived folder was…