The kitchen door opening.
1:08 p.m.
Both of them disappearing inside my house.
The patrol officer quietly paused the video.
“How far back does this system store recordings?”
“Ninety days.”
He looked at Daniel.
“I think you should sit down.”
Daniel didn’t move.
He watched another recording.
Another Tuesday.
Another embrace.
Another kiss.
Another afternoon in my backyard while I sat at work believing my husband was attending client meetings.
Brooke began sobbing.
“It wasn’t supposed to happen.”
Daniel didn’t even look at her.
“To happen?”
He laughed bitterly.
“This happened every week.”
Officer Reynolds continued documenting everything.
“No property damage appears beyond the vehicle key.”
I nodded.
“The truck belongs to both Ethan and me.”
“Understood.”
He turned toward Ethan.
“Sir, you’ll need to arrange another way to retrieve it.”
Ethan looked exhausted now.
Not guilty.
Not remorseful.
Only defeated.
“You planned this.”
His accusation surprised me.
“I planned to come home early and cook dinner.”
“You wanted everyone to see.”
“I wanted dinner.”
“You humiliated us.”
I almost smiled.
“No.”
“I interrupted you.”
