«But don’t try to tail them, or investigate on your own. We can’t risk getting caught.»
He meant we had to be cautious; we couldn’t act emotionally. We had to move calmly and methodically.
We left the cafe. James drove off first. I stood there, holding the briefcase. The briefcase with $100,000 inside. I could feel its weight. I took a taxi. On the way home, I stared out the window. It felt like I had made a deal. Like I had sold my endurance for money.
But it didn’t feel bad. In fact, I felt a sense of clarity. I had a goal now. To endure for three months. During that time, Michael would know nothing. Neither would Jessica. They would continue to meet, and their relationship would deepen. And in three months, we would file our lawsuits simultaneously.
Only then would Michael and Jessica realize how thoroughly they had been monitored.
I got home. I hid the briefcase deep in a closet, a place Michael would never find. I looked in the mirror. My face looked unfamiliar. I looked like a different person from a month ago. I had changed. I was no longer the naive wife. I was now a woman with a plan. A woman with a purpose. A woman preparing for the day I would face Michael.
A cautious alliance had begun. A collaboration between me and James.
A week had passed since my agreement with James. I had to return to being an ordinary wife, pretending to know nothing, to suspect nothing. It was harder than I thought.
It was morning. Michael was getting ready for work, putting on his usual dress shirt and tie. I set the table for breakfast, scrambled eggs and toast.
«A normal breakfast, thanks,» Michael said.
I smiled, trying to make it look natural. He didn’t notice anything. He ate his breakfast comfortably.
«Are you working late again today?» I asked, just like I always did.
Michael nodded. «Yes, the project deadline is next week, just bear with me a little longer.»
It was a lie. I knew the project had finished a month ago. I had checked the company’s website, but I pretended not to know.
«Then you should probably eat out. Should I pack you something?» I asked sweetly.
Michael waved his hand. «No, it’s fine. I’ll eat near the office, don’t worry about it.»
He would be eating with Jessica. I knew, but my expression didn’t change; I just smiled and nodded. Michael left for work. I heard the front door close. In that instant, my smile vanished. I stared at the leftover dishes on the table. It was bitter.
This was my daily life. A wife making breakfast for a liar. I did the dishes and cleaned the house, moving as usual. But a part of my mind was constantly wondering: Where is Michael now? Who is he with? What are they talking about?
In the afternoon, I received a text from James. It was short. Tonight, 7 pm, restaurant near Grand Central.
It was just the location information. The place where Michael and Jessica would meet.
I replied: Confirmed.
That was all. As James had said, we exchanged only facts, no emotional content. If anyone saw our conversation, there would be nothing to suspect.
Evening came. I ate alone. I turned on the TV, but the content didn’t register. I looked at the clock. Michael would be sitting across from Jessica right now, talking and laughing. I looked at my phone. Another text from James.
It was a single photo, taken through the restaurant window. Michael and Jessica were sitting there, drinking wine. My heart ached. Knowing was one thing, but seeing it was different. Seeing it with my own eyes made it more vivid. But I held back. I suppressed my emotions. Now was the time to gather evidence.
The next morning was the same. I made breakfast for Michael and saw him off to work, acting like a normal wife. Michael seemed to be getting more and more comfortable. His guard was down.
It was the weekend. Michael said he was going to the gym and left. I knew it was a lie, but I let him go. I even told him to have a good time. He left the house with a light heart.
I texted James: Husband left, 10.30 AM.
Just simple information. The reply came: Wife also left, 10 AM.
It meant they were meeting. In the afternoon, James called. His voice was cautious.
«Is it a good time to talk?»
I looked around. I was home alone. «Yes, it’s fine.»
«I captured something important today. I saw them go into a condo in Long Island City.»
A condo, not a hotel. It felt more planned, more permanent.
«Can you find out whose name the lease is under?» James asked.
It was possible it was in Michael’s name. I said I would check. After hanging up, I went to Michael’s home office. I opened his desk drawers. There were various documents, bank statements, credit card bills, insurance policies. In the bottom drawer, I found a lease agreement.
A rental agreement for a condo in Long Island City. The tenant was Michael. The lease was dated 2 months ago. I took pictures of the entire document with my phone. It was evidence, undeniable proof that Michael had leased a condo. I sent the photos to James.
A reply came quickly. Perfect. This will be crucial evidence.
It was clear proof of the marriage’s breakdown. It meant Michael had secured a space to meet his mistress.
Evening came. Michael returned, wearing sweaty workout clothes. It was an act. An act to pretend he had been to the gym. He went in to shower. I prepared dinner. Michael came out, his hair wet, and sat at the table.
«How was your workout?» I asked, as if it were a normal question.
Michael replied, «It was tough, but I feel refreshed. My body feels lighter.»
He continued the lie. I nodded, smiling as if I believed him. Michael ate his dinner with a relieved expression.
That night, Michael fell asleep quickly. Was he tired? Or was his mind at ease, thinking his wife suspected nothing? I couldn’t sleep. I looked at Michael lying next to me. The man I had lived with for seven years. A man who would soon be a stranger. In three months, he would be a stranger.
The following weeks unfolded in the same way. On Monday, Michael came home late from work. On Wednesday, he came home in the early hours from a company dinner. All lies. I knew from the information James sent me.
He continued to send updates. Messages with only dates, times, and locations. There was no emotional content. November 23, 19:00, L.I.C. Condo. November 25, 13:00, Central Park.
I shared information as well, telling him Michael’s schedule. Husband on business trip, November 28-29, Chicago.
James replied: Wife also on business trip. Same dates, same city.
It meant they went together. The evidence piled up. Photos, date logs, location information, the lease agreement—it was all objective and clear evidence. Irrefutable data.
A month passed. I got used to pretending to be calm. I sent Michael off every morning and ate dinner alone. We spent our weekends separately. Outwardly, we were a couple. But inside? It was different.
I knew. I knew about Michael’s lies, his relationship with Jessica, the existence of the condo. I knew everything. And James knew too. We were gathering evidence together.
James called. It was evening. Michael was out for work.
«I have a suggestion,» James said.
I was curious.
«I’m thinking of putting a GPS tracker on my wife’s car, then we can track her location in real time.»
I asked if there were any legal issues. James said he had consulted with his attorney. It was permissible between spouses. Placing a tracker on a spouse’s vehicle is not illegal. That meant I could put one on Michael’s car too.
James continued. «We can see in real time when they’re moving together. It will be even more solid proof.»
I agreed. It was necessary. A few days later, James gave me a tracker. It was a small device, easy to install. After Michael left for work, I went to the parking garage. I attached the tracker underneath Michael’s car. It was magnetic. I placed it in an inconspicuous spot.
From that day on, I could see Michael’s movements in real time on a phone app. His office, restaurants, the condo, hotels—every move was recorded. James also put a tracker on Jessica’s car. Whenever the two cars’ locations overlapped, I got an alert. It meant they were together.
The data accumulated. Their meetings were logged by date and time. I sent the files to my attorney, Robert Johnson. I emailed him everything: photos, a copy of the lease, the GPS logs.
A few days later, he replied. This is excellent evidence. With this much, we have a very high chance of winning the case.
The attorney’s words were reassuring. I was confident that we were preparing properly.
Two months passed. Michael became bolder. The frequency of his late nights increased, and he went out more often on weekends. His guard was completely down. He thought his wife suspected nothing.
One evening, Michael said, «I think I have to go on a business trip to Miami next week. For three days.»
Miami. It wasn’t a business trip; it was a vacation. My expression didn’t change as I replied. «OK, have a safe trip.»
Michael looked grateful. He must have thought I was a good wife, an unsuspecting wife who let him go without question.
I informed James about Michael’s Miami trip. A reply came soon after. Wife is also going to Miami. Same dates.
It was certain. They were going together.
This will be the final blow, James texted.
He was right. Spending three days and two nights together in Miami was undeniable grounds for divorce. No further proof would be necessary. During their trip, I kept checking. I looked at the GPS locations. Michael’s and Jessica’s cars were at a rental car agency in Miami. The same one; they had rented a car together.
I also confirmed the hotel location; it was a resort in South Beach. James called the hotel and confirmed a reservation for a double room. He also secured photos; James flew to Miami himself and tailed them. He took pictures of them walking together, eating, and in the hotel lobby.
Michael returned. The night he came back from Miami, he handed me a box of key lime pie, a souvenir. I accepted it with a smile.
«Did you have a good trip?» I asked.
Michael nodded, saying he was tired. «It was exhausting, so many meetings.»
A lie. It wasn’t meetings; it was dates. He would have been looking at the ocean with Jessica, eating delicious food, and spending time at the hotel.
«You must be very tired. Go wash up and rest,» I said gently.
Michael thanked me and went into the bathroom. I heard the shower. I looked at my phone. A message from James: All evidence secured. Now we just wait one more month.
Two of the three months had passed. I just had to endure for one more month. I looked out the window. It was night; I could see the stars. In a month, it would all be over.
Michael would find out. He would find out how thoroughly he had been monitored, that all the evidence had already been secured. The trap had been set. A trap Michael and Jessica couldn’t escape. They thought they were free, but they were in the palm of our hands, caught in the plan that James and I had created.
The final month of our three-month agreement began. The evidence we had accumulated was more than enough, but a more decisive moment was approaching, heralded by a change in Michael’s behavior.
One evening, Michael broached a subject cautiously. «I’m thinking of getting a small apartment near the office starting next month. The late nights are making the commute too difficult.»
It had finally come. The words I had been expecting. I already knew about the condo in Long Island City, but now he was trying to make it official, creating an excuse for his wife.
«Okay. If you think that’s better, you should do it,» I replied calmly.
A look of relief washed over Michael’s face. He was pleased that his wife had agreed so easily. He must have thought I didn’t suspect a thing.
«I’ll stay there on weekdays and just come home on weekends,» Michael said.