How I caught my man cheating on me

Two weeks later, I found a bakery.

It was one of those hidden gems—tucked behind a florist on a side street in Silver Lake, no sign out front, just a chalkboard in the window that said GOOD THINGS INSIDE. I'd stumbled across it while walking Lucky, and their signature caramel muffins were, no exaggeration, the best thing I'd ever put in my mouth.

I bought a box. Daniel loved caramel. He'd eat these standing up, moaning, licking crumbs off his fingers like a little kid. I couldn't wait to see his face.

I wanted to surprise him. So instead of calling ahead, I used my keycard for the CEO's private elevator. No one would know I was coming.

The elevator doors opened on the top floor. Quiet. Empty. The assistants' desks were vacant—must've been a meeting somewhere. I walked down the hall toward his office, box of muffins in hand, feeling almost giddy.

I knocked.

"I SAID I don't want to be DISTURBED. Get OUT!"

The voice that came through the door was Daniel's. But it wasn't any Daniel I'd ever heard. It was brutal. Raw. The voice of a man who could destroy you with a word and not lose sleep over it.

I flinched so hard I almost dropped the muffins.

"Daniel—it's me."

A beat of silence.

Then the electronic lock clicked, and the door swung open.

The curtains were drawn. The office was dim, backlit by a pale wash of sunlight through the fabric. Daniel stood with his back to the window, and with the light behind him, I couldn't read his face. Something about the shadows made the room feel smaller. Closer. Wrong.

I stopped a few feet from him. My body wouldn't go any farther.

Then he stepped forward, and the light caught his features, and he was smiling. Just Daniel. My Daniel.

"Hey, babe. What brings you here?"

My pulse was still hammering. "You scared me. What was that?"

He waved it off. "Video conference. Some idiot from the Tokyo office. I'm sorry—I didn't know it was you."

"Oh." I laughed a little, embarrassed. "I didn't realize you were in a meeting."

"I'm not anymore." He glanced back at his laptop. "Taking twenty. Come here."

I held up the bakery box. "I brought you something."

He opened it, and I watched his face as he took a bite of the caramel muffin. He chewed slowly. His expression was... off. Not bad, exactly. But not right either. Like he was performing enjoyment rather than feeling it.

"Good," he said. His voice sounded tight, pressed down. "Really good. Thank you, babe."

"You okay?"

"Yeah. Just tired. It's been a rough week."

Guilt tugged at me. He worked so hard, and here I was barging in unannounced. "I'll let you get back to it. Just come home early tonight, okay?"

"Okay." He kissed my forehead. "Next time, call first. I'll be waiting by the elevator."

I turned to leave. At the door, I glanced back.

His face had changed.

I'd seen Daniel angry. I'd seen him sad, stressed, exhausted. But this was something else. Something I'd never seen before and couldn't name. It was there for maybe half a second—a flicker behind his eyes, a tightness around his mouth—and then it was gone, replaced by his usual easy smile when he noticed me looking.

"Love you," he called.

"Love you too."

I walked to the elevator. Pressed the button. Waited.

Then something pulled me back.

Call it instinct. Call it my Virgo brain refusing to let go. Call it whatever you want. But my feet turned around on their own, and I walked back down the hallway toward his office.

I turned the corner just in time to see a woman step out of his door.

Eleanor.

She was smoothing a strand of hair that had come loose from her bun. Her heels clicked against the marble floor—sharp, rhythmic, unhurried. There was something about the way she moved. Something soft. Languid. Like a woman who had just been touched.

I pressed myself against the wall, heart slamming.

She'd gone in. And come out. In the two minutes since I'd left.

My mind flashed to Daniel's desk.

It was big enough. More than big enough.

Big enough to hide a person underneath.

Big enough for a lot of things.

I stood there, back against the cold wall, listening to the click-click-click of Eleanor's heels fading down the hall.

And I couldn't breathe.