of exhaustion?
I saved the recording.
Then I made a second copy.
My hands were trembling.
But one thing had become clear.
Confronting Julian without understanding his plan would only warn him that I knew.
I needed to be careful.
I needed answers.
I looked toward the bedroom door.
Beyond it, I could hear my husband laughing at something on television.
He sounded completely relaxed.
As though he’d spent the evening doing nothing more suspicious than watching his favorite show.
I couldn’t believe how ordinary everything seemed.
The apartment looked exactly as it always had.
Our wedding photograph still stood on the dresser.
Julian’s jacket hung over the chair.
His favorite coffee mug sat beside the bed.
Every familiar detail reminded me of the marriage I thought I had.
Yet the recording told a very different story.
I stepped into the bathroom and closed the door.
For several minutes, I
