Laura wondered how long Brett had been planning it. Weeks, perhaps months, maybe longer than she could imagine. Every ordinary day rewrote itself under suspicion, conversations rearranged, silences reclassified, memories losing their innocence crept backward through their shared history with quiet persistence.
She searched her memory for clues she might have ignored. Late nights at work. Distant replies to simple questions. Conversations shortened to logistics. Affection deferred. None of it was dramatic, nothing demanded alarm, yet together they formed a pattern she could no longer pretend was accidental.