After My Husband Kissed Gwendolyn at Work

The wind howled outside our windows, rattling the glass like an angry stranger trying to break in. I hurriedly secured the last of the storm shutters, my hands trembling slightly as another gust shook our house.

"Hurry, Rose!" I muttered to myself, wiping rain from my face as I rushed back inside. "The hurricane's getting closer."

With Shane still at the office, I was alone in preparing our home for the approaching storm. The TV blared weather updates in the background, but I needed to see the latest tracking information. Shane had taken his laptop, so I grabbed his iPad from the kitchen counter.

"Let me just check the radar," I whispered, swiping through his apps.

A notification popped up—a Groupon deal. I shouldn't have clicked it, but my finger was already there before I realized what I'd done.

"Couples' Romantic Dinner for Two at La Bella Notte - Only $99!"

My heart skipped a beat as I stared at the screen. Not because of the deal itself, but because of the name next to it: "Shared with Gwendolyn."

Who was Gwendolyn?

I scrolled frantically through Shane's messages, finding nothing else about this mysterious person. The deal was for a couples' dinner—why would Shane share it with someone who wasn't me?

The front door opened just as I was about to dig deeper.

"Rose? What are you doing with my iPad?" Shane's voice carried a hint of surprise as he stepped inside, shaking rain from his coat.

I swallowed hard. "The hurricane's getting worse. I was checking the weather updates."

"Oh." He nodded, taking off his shoes. "Sorry I'm late. The office was crazy today."

I held up the iPad, my finger hovering over the notification. "Who's Gwendolyn?"

Something flickered across his face—so brief I almost missed it. Then he smiled, that charming smile that had won me over eight years ago.

"Gwendolyn? Oh, she's just this older lady at work. She's been having trouble with technology, so I helped her out with this deal." He took the iPad from my hands. "She wanted to surprise her husband with a nice dinner, but couldn't figure out how to use Groupon."

"That's... thoughtful of you," I said, my voice sounding strange to my own ears.

"Hey, we've been through a lot together. Helping a coworker is nothing." He kissed my forehead. "Now, let's get this place secured before the storm hits."

I nodded, but as Shane moved through our home checking windows and gathering supplies, a tiny seed of doubt took root in my chest.

---

Three days later, the storm had passed, leaving only minor damage to our neighborhood. I was folding laundry when my phone buzzed with a text from Shane.

"Check this out! Thought you might like it."

Attached was a link. I clicked it, expecting maybe a funny article or a recipe.

Instead, my screen filled with images of the most exquisite lingerie I'd ever seen. Black lace, silk ribbons, and cutouts that left little to imagination.

My cheeks burned as I stared at it. We hadn't even been intimate in months—Shane was always too tired or too busy with work.

I typed a simple "?" and hit send.

My phone rang almost immediately.

"Rose?" Shane's voice sounded slightly breathless. "Did you get my text?"

"The lingerie link?" I asked, trying to keep my voice steady. "What's that about?"

"Oh God, that wasn't supposed to go to you!" He laughed nervously. "It was a pop-up ad that came up while I was researching marketing campaigns. I must have clicked it by accident and forwarded it."

"A pop-up?" I echoed, thinking of all the practical cotton underwear I'd been buying to save money for his business.

"Yeah, you know how those things work." His voice dropped lower. "Though now that I think about it, maybe we should order something like that. It's been a while since we've..."

He trailed off suggestively, but something cold settled in my stomach.

---

The following week, Shane announced he'd be taking an overnight business trip to meet potential investors.

"I'll miss you," he said, kissing me goodbye at the door. "But this could mean big things for the company."

I nodded, forcing a smile. "Call me when you get there?"

"Of course," he promised.

That night, my phone lit up with a video call from Shane. I answered eagerly, missing him despite my growing suspicions.

"Hey, baby," he said, smiling into the camera. The hotel room behind him looked elegant—much nicer than the budget places he usually stayed.

"Nice room," I commented, trying to sound casual.

"The client insisted on booking it," he replied smoothly. "How was your day?"

As we talked, my eyes drifted past him to a chair in the corner of the frame. Draped over it were what looked like silk women's pants—definitely not his.

"Rose? Are you listening?" Shane asked, his voice suddenly sharp.

"Yes, sorry," I stammered, refocusing on his face.

Just then, I heard it—the distinct clink of ice in glasses and a muffled female voice coming from somewhere nearby.

"Shane, what's that noise?" I asked, my heart pounding.

His expression changed instantly. "Oh, I think someone's just watching TV in the next room. This hotel has terrible insulation."

But I knew what I'd heard. And as our eyes locked through the screen, I saw something flicker across his face—guilt, panic, and something else I couldn't quite name.

"I think we're losing connection," he said suddenly. "I'll call you tomorrow, okay? Love you."

Before I could respond, the screen went black.

I sat there, phone in hand, heart racing as pieces began falling into place.