He wasn't just cheating, buying property, raising a secret child. He had taken the original design I'd bled over and handed it to his mistress to enter in the very competition I'd proposed, with her name stamped where mine should have been.

I took a slow breath, screenshotted every message, backed them up, saved every last shred of evidence, then placed the phone exactly where I'd found it.

Ralph came out of the shower, and I walked over to him, kneading his shoulders, my voice soft as water. "You work so hard, honey. All these client dinners lately. Don't wear yourself out."

He closed his eyes, pleased with himself. "It's all for our future."

"Oh, by the way," I said, keeping my tone idle, "I was at your office today and noticed that receptionist, Lisa, looks like she's pregnant. So young, too."

His whole body went rigid. His voice tightened. "...Really? I hadn't noticed."

"Looked about three or four months along." I kept it light, offhand.

"Kids these days, so careless with themselves." He forced the words out. Sweat was already beading on his forehead.

I laughed coldly on the inside, but my face stayed nothing but concerned. "Right? I just hope her boyfriend's a responsible guy. She deserves that much."

"I... I'm sure he is..." His voice was shaking.

The next morning, I messaged my private investigator and told him to tail Ralph and Lisa around the clock.

By evening, a full set of photos landed in my inbox.

Ralph and Lisa browsing a high-end baby boutique. One arm around her waist, the other resting gently on her belly. The tenderness in his eyes was something I had never once been given.

And then the photo that cut deepest: the two of them walking into a jewelry store, Ralph swiping his card for a $200,000 diamond ring and sliding it onto her finger himself.

I thought of our wedding day. How I'd told him not to spend too much on a ring because I didn't want him to feel pressured. How his eyes had gone red with emotion as he swore he would never let me down.

He hadn't been unwilling to spend the money. He'd just been unwilling to spend it on me.

I saved every photo, every receipt, filed them all away. The evidence was ironclad.

That afternoon, I drove to the shopping district Lisa frequented. Sure enough, I spotted her tucked into a corner booth at a café.

She sat across from a friend, her face glowing with smug satisfaction.