POV: Elena
7:10 PM — No More Hiding
I knew when I saw James's face.
He knew.
Not just suspected. Knew.
I used to think guilt was a whisper — a low voice you could tune out with distraction or denial.
Turns out, it screams. Loudest when you're in a quiet kitchen and your husband's staring at you like he doesn't know who the hell you are anymore.
"Did something happen between you and Aaron?" he asked.
I should have lied.
I should have collapsed into the role I played so well for so long — the devoted wife, the misunderstood stepmother, the steady presence.
Instead, I stood frozen.
And silence — thick, unforgivable silence — answered for me.
7:13 PM — The Sound of Something Breaking
He didn't yell.
That's the part I'll remember until the day I die.
He just… walked out.
Not stormed. Walked. Steady. Controlled.
He closed the door behind him like he was sealing off a crime scene.
I stood there, breath locked in my chest, heartbeat hammering in my ears.
