The dashcam footage amounted to several gigabytes of files, mostly audio clips from inside the car.
My assistant, Evelyn, spoke cautiously. "Maggie, the earliest files on the memory card are from two years ago."
I knew what she was implying.
The first time I heard them on the recording, their rhythm was already practiced, fluid.
They had been doing this for far longer than I could have imagined.
I clicked open an audio file.
Of course. The timestamp matched my weekly therapy session on the Upper West Side.
The day my mother killed herself, during my senior year of college, she came to have a meal with me.
She’d cooked it herself.
I had never eaten a meal she’d made. Her life revolved around holding on to my father, especially after his string of affairs.
A home-cooked meal from my mother… something I once thought I no longer needed.
But when it was right there in front of me, I realized I was still that little girl, desperate for her mother to look at her just once.
I let my guard down so easily.
Then, right in front of me, she swallowed the entire bottle of pills.
Thank God Joel arrived when he did.
He’d been cooking and bringing me food for years.
By the time the paramedics loaded me into the ambulance, my mother wasn't breathing.
Her last words, spat at me with a twisted face, were: "If I hadn't given birth to you, I would never have ended up like this, a woman your father despises."
From then on, I had to see a therapist twice a week.
Joel drove me every single time.
And in that one-hour window, he and Maya would have their affair in his car.
The latest recording was from a week before the wedding.
I heard Maya light a cigarette, her voice a lazy drawl.
"We should probably stop after the wedding."
Joel chuckled. "What, doubting my stamina? You don't think I can handle both of you?"
Maya sighed. "I just feel like it isn't fair to Maggie."
Joel scoffed. "You didn't say it was unfair when you got drunk and unbuckled my belt."
"You didn't say it was unfair when you kept coming on to me, again and again."
"You didn't say it was unfair when you were screaming my name."
I heard the sound of a hand moving, a rustle of fabric, followed by her sharp, stifled gasp.
"Admit it. No one else makes you feel like this."
"If we stop, you'll never feel anything like this again."
Maya's voice was fractured.
"But I... I don't want Maggie to get hurt."
"We both know how much she despises cheaters. Her father is proof enough of that."
Joel laughed softly.
"I love Maggie more than you do. The last thing I want is for her to get hurt."
"That's why I can't be rough with her, not the way I am with you."
"If you leave, and I lose control and find someone else, what if she's not as careful as you? What if she doesn't know how to keep her mouth shut, how to never let it get back to Maggie?"
"Maya, us staying together is the best way to protect Maggie. Don't you see?"
A long silence stretched on. Finally, she whispered.
"Yes. We're doing this for Maggie."
The computer screen went black.
Evelyn watched my face, her own expression unreadable.
"Maggie, should I cancel the wedding?"
I touched the faint scar on my wrist and shook my head.
"No. We've prepared for too long. It would be a shame to cancel."
"But do me a favor. Book a makeup artist for Maya."