Eventually, his frustration and embarrassment fused into anger, and in one heated text, he lashed out with curses. Henry: [Are you fucking messing with me?]
I pondered his words, struggling to reconcile this man with the tender husband I once knew.
It was a stark reminder: people could wear masks.
Love could be feigned.
After breakfast, I crafted a reply to Henry.
Nicole: [I'm sorry. My car broke down on my way to you. It's only just been fixed. Where are you now? Should I come to get you?]
Daylight now bathed the world.
Even the remote road would be alive with activity.
The likelihood of him lashing out at me once more seemed nearly insurmountable.
As expected, Henry swiftly replied. Henry: [No need. I've managed to hail a taxi.]
A smile played on my lips as I set the phone down.
Henry wouldn't be coming home just yet.
He sent yet another message, informing me that there were matters at the company demanding his attention, and only after wrestling with those would he make his way back home.
Ignoring his excuses, I ventured downstairs to the supermarket, where I purchased two cameras and two voice recorders.
The cameras were strategically placed in the living room and bedroom, and their feeds were linked directly to my phone.
The recorders, one in my bag, the other in my pocket, were my constant companions, ready to capture any evidence.
Not content with passive measures, I reached out to a private detective, Jerry Short, offering a substantial sum for his services.
His mission was clear: to watch the private villa and document any intimate moments between Henry and Selena.
This was my new battlefield, and Henry was my adversary.
I would ensure he left this house with nothing but disgrace.
Upon Henry's return, I was perched atop a stool to delicately remove the wedding photograph that had once proudly hung at the heart of our bedroom.
The moment his eyes caught my action, a frown of displeasure creased his brow.
"It's perfectly fine where it is. Why are you taking it down?"
His voice, laced with impatience, reached my ears as I steadfastly refused to turn and face him.
"It's gathered dust. I thought to clean it," I replied.
The wedding photo slipped from my grasp, crashing to the floor and fracturing into two pieces.
My gaze lifted to meet Henry's, only to find him casting an impatient glance in my direction. "You're clumsy! If it's broken, just throw it away."