I looked at the suitcase.
Was he planning to leave?
Did he pack his things because he had already made up his mind?
Then I noticed another folded paper in the envelope.
At the top was a name I didn’t recognize.
Rebecca
I started reading
“Rebecca, I’ve been thinking about everything we talked about, and I can no longer pretend my marriage is okay.”
My stomach tightened.
Who was Rebecca?
Was there another woman there?
Suddenly, I remembered Ashton’s late-night phone calls, his distracted expression, and the conversations that stopped every time I entered the room.
Just a week earlier I had heard him whisper into the phone:
“I’ll think of something.”
I assumed he was talking about work.
Now I wasn’t so sure.
I called my closest friend, Megan.
She supported me throughout my rehabilitation and knew how difficult the last few months had been for me.
When I told her what I had discovered, she fell silent.