That night, I lay next to my fiancée while she slept.
I stared at the ceiling for a long time, trying to convince myself I was wrong.
But the thought wouldn’t leave.
So I did something I never thought I would.
I picked up her phone.
It took me a minute to get past the lock screen. I’d seen her type the code enough times without meaning to memorize it.
Once I was in, I went straight to her messages.
But the thought wouldn’t leave.
At first, everything looked normal. Group chats. Her sister, Lauren. A few friends.
Then I saw a contact: “M 
.”
My breath caught.
I opened their messages.
Stephanie: He believed me. Men like him are so easy when they’re scared of losing you.
Stephanie: I don’t care about him. I care about what he has.
Stephanie: The house, the accounts, the ring. I WANT ALL OF IT!
Stephanie: Stay quiet until I lock this down. After that, I’LL TAKE HIS MONEY AND LET HIM CRY!
My breath caught.
I read the messages again, hoping I’d misunderstood something.
I hadn’t.
The room felt as if it were spinning.
But I didn’t wake or confront her.
I just sat there, holding her phone, realizing that the person sleeping next to me wasn’t who I thought she was.
By the time the sun came up, I had already made a decision.
***
I spent the next two days wisely.
I booked a venue for the pregnancy celebration and called it a “gender reveal.”
