On a work trip, I checked the baby monitor and saw a strange woman tucking in my toddler, Ben. This discovery shattered my three-year marriage to Logan. Panicked, I called him, but he hung up after a suspicious pause. My brother, Aaron, found Logan arguing with the woman, who claimed Ben would be her son post-divorce. I flew home, confronted Logan, and filed for divorce, securing full custody while allowing weekend visits. Later, I
identified the woman, Claire, a stylist, and booked a session. There, I showed her a screenshot of her with Ben, handed her a therapist’s card, and left. Logan still calls, claiming change, but I focus on Ben and myself, sleeping soundly with the monitor’s glow.