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crashed into place.
Late meetings.
Locked screens.
Midnight “client emergencies.”
The night I walked into the kitchen and caught him texting in the dark.
“Who’s that?” I’d asked.
“Lauren from work,” he answered too quickly. “Just business stuff.”
I trusted him.
God, I trusted him.
I called Miss Greenwood immediately.
“She seemed comfortable around your husband’s continue reading …
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