I didn't answer, and Julia couldn't have cared less—she lifted the shopping bag right out of my hands as if I were a delivery girl.
"This must be the purse Daniel ordered for me last month?"
"I've had my eye on this one for ages. How sweet of you to make a special trip, Miss Weiss…"
I couldn't listen to another word. My palm cracked across her face hard enough to cut her off mid-sentence.
She was clutching her cheek, mouth open to scream, when the front door swung wide.
Daniel stood in the doorway.
He was carrying bags of meat and vegetables, clearly here to cook lunch.
The second he saw me, panic flooded his face.
"Ev— Evie, what are you doing here?"
Something clenched around my heart so hard I almost couldn't breathe.
Six years of marriage, and Daniel had never once bought groceries, never once cooked a meal—always too busy with work, he said. Even when I was nine months pregnant, I was the one dragging myself to the market, standing over the stove with my belly in the way. And now here was my husband, carrying groceries to another woman's door like her errand dog.
I didn't answer him. I pointed at Julia and looked him dead in the eye.
"Who is she?"
Daniel dropped the bags and rushed over, trying to grab my hand.
"Let's go, Evie, come on—not here. We go home, I'll explain at home."
I flung his hand off so hard he stumbled, and my voice rose even louder.
"Daniel! I'm asking you one more time—who is this woman?"
"What are you doing here?"
The noise drew neighbors fast.
People gathered outside the door, whispering and pointing.
"What's going on? The wife showed up to catch the mistress? See, I told you all. That Julia woman, you could tell she was no good just by looking at her."
"What's wrong with men these days? They've got perfectly fine lives at home and they're still out looking for thrills."
"Who knows? That's just how men are now, isn't it? Wife at home raising the kids, and they can't appreciate it. Rather be out doing things that'll get them struck by lightning!"
The gossip stripped whatever composure Daniel had left. His expression darkened by the second.
"Let's go! Home! Now!"
"I'll give you an explanation!"
We weren't two steps inside the door before Daniel was already jabbing his finger in my face, shouting.
"Evelyn! Did you really have to blow this up like that?"
"After that stunt you pulled, how is she supposed to face anyone? You're a woman—you of all people should know what reputation means to a woman!"
I didn't waste my breath arguing. I reached into his pocket, pulled out his phone, and slammed it down in front of him.
In all our years of marriage, I had never once checked his phone. He'd never bothered to delete anything.
Every transfer to the personal shopper was right there in black and white.
A five-hundred-dollar compact here. A two-thousand-dollar perfume there.
A sixty-thousand-dollar necklace. A three-hundred-thousand-dollar handbag.
Every single transaction, crystal clear.
"Now you want to blame me for making a scene? Now reputation matters?"
"Funny how neither of you thought about that when you were climbing into bed together."
I didn't miss the flicker that crossed his eyes—there and gone before he could hide it.
But he buried it fast, cranking his voice right back up.
"You went to her place over this? Do you even know what this is about?"
"She's my superior—Supervisor Gray runs my entire team. Do you have any idea how much she's helped me at the company over the years?"
"So I bought her a few gifts to say thank you—is that really worth losing your mind over?"
So it was true. Everything people said about men like him—every word of it.
