I was cleaning out Kevin’s desk drawer one afternoon, looking for a notepad, when I stumbled across a printed hotel reservation. At first, I smiled, assuming he had tried to surprise me with details of our Spain trip.

But as I read the paper, my stomach clenched. It wasn’t just a hotel, it was a reservation for two, made months before, for a date that coincided with a weekend he had told me he was on a “business trip” in Madrid.

My heart thudded painfully as I stared at the words. The reservation listed his name and another: Emily Carter.

I sat there, frozen, my mind spinning. Emily Carter. I knew that name vaguely—she was someone from his office, a colleague he occasionally mentioned. I’d never paid much attention, assuming she was just another co-worker.