At night, Claire’s phone buzzed on the nightstand. Daniel pretended to sleep, heart thudding as she reached over, checked the screen, and quietly set it down. Who was she messaging? Why at midnight? Claire sighed softly, rolling back toward him. Daniel lay rigid, swallowed whole by his suspicions.
He told himself he was gathering proof, not spying. Yet he began noting her routines; when she left for errands, how long she stayed out, what excuses she offered. Innocent gaps stretched into ominous silences in his mind. He began recording details in a notebook, as though building a case.