My husband, David, had been visiting our new neighbor Lauren far too often—carrying boxes, fixing things. At first, I brushed it off. But soon, suspicion gnawed at me. One day, I walked over with cookies, pretending to be friendly. That’s when I saw a little boy—he looked just like David.

The doubt grew unbearable. I came home early one afternoon and saw them on her porch—David hugging her. That was it. I decided to expose them.

At Max’s birthday party, I made my move. I arranged for a truck to dump trash on Lauren’s lawn—my twisted way of revealing their betrayal. As chaos erupted, I shouted accusations. “You’ve been lying to me, David! That boy—he’s yours, isn’t he?”

David looked stunned. Then I saw the cake: Happy Anniversary, Sarah.

My stomach dropped.

David stepped forward, his voice calm. “Lauren helped plan a surprise… for us.”

The air left my lungs. I’d ruined everything.

I’d been so certain—so wrong.

In trying to catch a lie, I destroyed the truth.

And myself with it.