A Secret Existence
The neighbor’s continued stories only deepen my sense of betrayal. Each tale, each memory he shares, reveals a version of my husband that I never knew. “He’s private, but seems like a good man,” the neighbor says, still unaware of the storm brewing inside me. But I know better now — that “privacy” was a cover for deception.
Lisa keeps him talking while I absorb every word like a blow to the chest. I think back on our shared life, now shadowed by all these hidden moments he spent here. How many weekends did he fake a conference or claim a late meeting, only to escape to this place? My rage no longer boils over — it simmers, controlled, fueling my new mission for truth and accountability.
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