How ironic.

A person could pour out her love for me with one breath and bring another man home with the next.

In that moment, I couldn't help but wonder. All those years of devotion I'd been so proud of—how much of it was real, and how much was a lie?

When had it started between her and that man?

I sat at the dining table for a long time, trying to steady myself.

Then something occurred to me.

The second it did, I called my parents and asked them to come over.

They must have heard the urgency in my voice, because they arrived faster than I'd ever seen them move.

"What's going on, Donnie? You sounded frantic on the phone," my father said.

I didn't hold back. I told them everything—every last detail about Ethel's affair, laid out in a single breath.

When I finished, my father looked like the ground had shifted beneath him.

"Donnie, is there any chance this is a misunderstanding? Everyone can see how good Ethel is to you. The girl adores you."

"And you know how her job works—she's a surgeon. She's on call around the clock. Maybe there really was an emergency she had to handle?"

"That post... couldn't it just be a coincidence?"

My mother slammed her palm on the table.

"Coincidence? Are you out of your mind?"

"The post said the car was parked sideways. Ethel parked sideways."

"Donnie walked in without calling first. The post described the exact same situation."

"The post said the wife snuck out to drive the lover home. Ethel made up an excuse and left."

"And there just happened to be another man's hair on the bed? You think all of that is a coincidence?"

My father frowned. "But Ethel has treated Donnie like he's more important than her own life all these years—"

My mother scoffed. "So what?"

"Just because she's been good to him means she can't cheat?"

"Every woman who's messing around on the side plays the perfect wife at home. That's the whole point."

"The better the act, the harder it is to see through."

My father had nothing to say to that.

My mother only grew angrier. "That Ethel Pruitt!"

"When she was chasing after Donnie, she knelt outside our door for three days and three nights. Knelt until her forehead was split open from bowing, swearing she'd love him with everything she had. That's the only reason I gave my blessing."

"And now? Two years of marriage, and she has the nerve to bring some man into their home? She's lost her mind!"

My mother was furious.

But what I felt more than anger was confusion.

Because my father was right.

All these years, Ethel had been incredibly good to me.

She was young, accomplished, and strikingly beautiful. There was never a shortage of men pursuing her. Even the hospital director's son had gone out of his way to court her, publicly declaring that if Ethel would be with him, he'd hand her the keys to the entire hospital.

Ethel hadn't so much as flinched.

She'd offended him for it, too. Nearly got blacklisted from the entire medical community.

Even then, she never wavered. She looked me in the eyes and said:

"I can lose everything else in this world. The one thing I can't lose is you."

It was precisely because I'd felt the depth of her devotion—felt it in my bones—that none of this made sense.

What kind of man could make someone like Ethel Pruitt, a woman who treated loyalty like a religion, change her heart?

"Donnie, what do you want to do?"

My father looked at me, his expression grave.

I paused, then answered steadily. "I want to catch them in the act."

My mother's eyes sharpened with interest. "How?"

I didn't answer right away. Instead, I pulled out my phone and scrolled to an app I'd never once opened.

It was a location-sharing app.

Back when we first got together, Ethel had insisted on installing a location-sharing app on her phone, just so I could check where she was anytime I wanted.

I'd refused at first. I trusted her. I thought tracking each other was the last thing two people in love needed.

But she wouldn't let it go. She said to think of it as insurance. If something ever happened to her, I'd be able to find her right away.

All these years, I'd been quietly proud that I'd never once opened that app.

Now I was about to use it to catch her cheating.

I drew a long breath and tapped the icon.

The screen loaded for a few seconds, then a map filled the display. A small green dot pulsed on it, drifting slowly along a road.

My father leaned over. "That's Ethel's live location?"

I nodded. Said nothing.

My mother was already grabbing her purse. "Let's go. Right now."

"I want to see for myself what kind of man could turn someone like Ethel Pruitt into this."

My father didn't say a word. He snatched the car keys off the counter and headed for the door.

Mom and I followed, piling into his car.

The entire ride, my mother couldn't stop talking.

"And to think I actually believed she loved you. Turns out she's been bringing men into your home while she cooks your dinner."

"Fifty-some years I've been alive, and I have never seen anything this disgusting."

"If she'd fallen out of love and asked for a divorce, fine. I'd be furious, but at least I'd respect her for being honest."

"But no. She played you for a fool. Strung you along like you were some kind of joke."

"If I catch her shacked up with another man today, I will tear them both apart with my bare hands."

Her eyes were rimmed red with fury.

When Ethel had first pursued me, my mother had been against it. She thought the Pruitt family's background wasn't good enough. It was Ethel who knelt outside our front door for three days and three nights, forehead split and bleeding from bowing against the stone, before my mother finally relented.

My father drove in silence. I caught his reflection in the rearview mirror. His brows were knotted tight, his jaw locked. Whatever he was thinking, he kept it to himself.

About twenty minutes in, I glanced at my phone. The green dot had stopped moving.

"Faster, Dad."

He pressed the accelerator without a word, and we pulled up near Ethel's location moments later.

The first thing I saw was her car, parked in front of a villa.

I threw my door open and headed straight for the building.

What I didn't notice was the reaction behind me.

In the car, both my parents were staring at the villa. The color had drained from their faces at the exact same instant.

Before I'd taken ten steps, my father was out of the car and blocking my path.

"Donnie. Are you sure Ethel brought that man here?"

Something in his expression stopped me cold. It wasn't anger. It wasn't skepticism. It was something I couldn't name.

"What's wrong, Dad? Do you know this place?"

His mouth opened. No sound came out.

Then my mother caught up. She took one look at the villa, swallowed hard, and when she turned to me, her face was ashen.

"Donnie, let's go home."

"Stop looking into this."

I stared at her. "What?"

"Mom, you're the one who said we had to come. You were the most fired up. You said we had to catch them red-handed."

"They're inside that villa right now. Why are you suddenly telling me to drop it?"

She didn't answer. Instead, she grabbed my arm, her voice cracking, halfway to tears.

"Donnie, I'm begging you. Please. Let's just go home."

"Let this go. Please."

My father stepped forward, his face grave.

"Donnie, listen to your mother. Let's go back."

"We're doing this for your own good."

I was completely stunned.

I couldn't make sense of it. Just moments ago, my parents had been ready to storm in and fight for me. Now, after one look at this villa, they'd become entirely different people.

Was it the villa itself that was wrong?

Or was it the person inside?

Curiosity burned through me, thick and impossible to ignore. I shoved past my parents' protests, charged up to the front door, and knocked.

The Other Donald door opened almost immediately.

And the moment it did, I saw Ethel standing just inside the threshold.

And the man behind her.

The instant I made out his face, my eyes went wide and everything clicked into place.