Something didn’t sit right.
That night, I couldn’t sleep.
I kept thinking about what Peter said, about the boxes and Kelly.
I needed to hear the truth myself.
So I made a decision, one I wasn’t proud of.
***
Peter was fast asleep when I snuck into his room. We didn’t share a bedroom. There was no confusion about what our marriage was. His phone was on the nightstand.
I hesitated.
I needed to hear the truth.
Then I picked it up.
My FIL, well, husband’s password was simple: his name.
I found the contact.
Kelly.
I saved the number, then put the phone back exactly where it had been.
My hands were shaking when I walked out.
The next morning, I opened my phone and read the response to my message that read, “Hi, this is Catherine. Sean’s ex. Could we talk?”
When I left the house, I told Peter I needed to run some errands.
He didn’t question it.
That almost made it worse.
My hands were shaking.
I drove to a small coffee place across town.
When Kelly arrived, she looked younger than I remembered.
For a moment, neither of us spoke.
Then I said it.
“I need to know what you told Peter.”
“He talked about you and the kids as if it were already decided,” she said without hesitation.
I frowned.
“He’d say things as if it were only a matter of time. That you’d get overwhelmed and things would… shift. That the kids would end up with him full-time, and you’d just… fade out of the picture.”
“I need to know what you told Peter.”
I stared at her.
“He actually said that?”
She nodded. “More than once.”
