She ended the call.
That night, I searched Mark’s duffel bag and found a motel key card and a receipt from a jewelry store two towns away.
The following morning, after he left for work, I opened his laptop.
His password had changed.
After three unsuccessful attempts, I entered the name of his favorite fishing lake.
It worked.
On the desktop was a folder with a small ring icon.
I clicked it.
The first photograph showed Mark standing inside the marina restaurant, holding hands with a woman in a white dress.
The second showed him slipping a wedding ring onto her finger.
In the third, they were kissing.
Then I opened a video.
“I promise to love you for the rest of my life,” Mark said, looking into the woman’s eyes.
People applauded.
Someone called them husband and wife.
I watched my husband smile at another woman with an expression I hadn’t seen directed at me in years.
