finally catching up with me.
By the third time, I knew something wasn’t right.
I told Julian.
“It’s strange,” I said one evening. “Whenever Marcus drives me home, I can’t remember the entire trip.”
My husband laughed.
“Sofia, you spend ten hours a day staring at financial reports. Of course you’re tired.”
“But it doesn’t happen when I drive myself.”
“Because you’re concentrating on the road.”
He smiled and kissed my forehead.
“You’re overthinking it, sweetheart. You need more rest.”
I wanted to believe him.
After all, Julian was my husband.
The person who was supposed to know me better than anyone else.
But I couldn’t ignore the feeling that something important was missing.
After the third incident, I bought a small digital voice recorder.
It was barely larger than a keychain.
I slipped it into a concealed pocket inside my handbag.
My intention was simple.
I wanted to understand
