Chapter 3

With trembling hands, I opened the app that synced with my car's onboard camera.

Inside my familiar vehicle, in the passenger seat where I usually sat, the alluring Vivienne reached out and pulled my husband closer from the seat next to her.

Because they were directly facing the camera, their actions seemed magnified several times over, passionately playing out before my eyes.

Vivienne gasped, "My back isn't even better yet, and you're pouncing on me again!"

The man's breathing grew more rapid, "Weren't you the one who pulled me?"

After that, only the muffled sounds of their entanglement could be heard.

I watched them in the video, my hands shaking.

Because of my trust in him, I had never thought to check his whereabouts. This in-car monitoring app, installed just before I had our child, was now serving an extraordinary purpose.

The scene was too painful to watch, and before I knew it, tears were streaming down my face.

As they were about to take things further, I finally couldn't resist and dialed Garrison's number with quivering hands.

Though the ringtone was clearly audible, Vivienne pressed her hand over his, stopping him. "What about that thing you promised to let me model for you yesterday? You didn't give it to your darling to wear, did you?"

"Cut it out, I need to answer this call!"

Despite his words, my husband's actions didn't slow down one bit.

I feel like I'm being fried in a vat of boiling oil, watching them carry out their shameful acts right under my nose.

My phone's ringtone becomes like a background score to their performance, ringing over and over again, but no one answers.

"I rushed out and forgot to bring it for you."

My husband's lies roll off his tongue effortlessly, while that woman doesn't seem to care much.

Suddenly, her phone starts ringing too.

This time, it's her turn to look serious. Clearly, her husband isn't as gullible and easy to fool as I am.

She hangs up the phone and, seemingly remembering something, whispers a few words in my husband's ear. To my surprise, they both stop what they're doing and get out of the car together.

Unfortunately, once they turn off the engine and shut down the car, I can't see or hear anything anymore.

I frantically scroll through the recorded information on my phone. It seems they always arrange in advance to park the car in a secluded spot, and the recorder hasn't captured any useful information.

I put the phone aside, biting my lip hard and crying silently. My heart aches even more than my eyes, but I suppress my sobs, not daring to cry out loud.

Seeing my tears, my daughter keeps wiping them away with her little hands, softly calling out "Mommy."

We hold each other tightly, mother and daughter, as my body trembles uncontrollably from the suppressed emotions.