She looked at the screen and immediately stood.
“I need to take this,” she said.
She walked into the hallway and lowered her voice. I could not understand her words, but I noticed the softness in her tone. It did not sound like the impatient, professional voice she normally used when discussing work.
When she returned, Ethan looked up from his plate.
“Who was it?”
“Just someone from the office,” she answered quickly.
She gave him a smile and began eating again.
Ethan nodded, satisfied.
But Victoria avoided looking in my direction for the rest of the evening.
That was when the uneasy feeling inside me became impossible to ignore.
Perhaps there was an innocent explanation. Perhaps I was reading too much into ordinary behavior. I reminded myself that suspicion could damage a family as easily as betrayal could.
So I said nothing.
I watched.
I waited.
And the feeling only grew stronger.

Part Two: The First Warning
Several months later, I was folding laundry at home when my phone rang.
The caller was my longtime friend Daniella.
We had known each other since our children were in elementary school. She was one of the most sensible people I knew, the kind of woman who never exaggerated and never involved herself in someone else’s life without a serious reason.
Daniella worked in the restaurant of a large hotel downtown.
When I answered, there was something unusual in her voice.
“Jenna, are you busy?”
“No. What happened?”
She hesitated.
That pause was enough to make my heart beat faster.
“I’m not sure how to say this,” she began. “But I think I just saw Victoria.”
I stopped folding the towel in my hands.
“At the hotel?”
“She’s sitting in the restaurant.”
I waited for her to continue.
“With a man,” Daniella added. “And I’m certain he isn’t Ethan.”
A chill moved through me.
“What exactly did you see?”
“They’re at a table in the corner. They’ve been leaning close to each other, and a few minutes ago, they were holding hands.”
I slowly sat on the edge of my bed.
The room seemed to shrink around me.
“Are you absolutely sure it’s her?”
“Yes,” Daniella replied gently. “I’ve met Victoria several times. I wouldn’t call you unless I was certain.”
For several seconds, I could not speak.
I had imagined discovering something like this, but imagination had not prepared me for the weight of hearing it confirmed.
Part of me wanted to end the call and pretend the conversation had never happened. Another part wanted to drive to the hotel immediately, confront Victoria, and demand that she explain what she was doing.