I put laxatives in my husband’s coffee before he left to see his mistress

I had already seen the preview.

MELISSA:

Wear the blue one. I like you in that.

My hands went cold.

Melissa Ward.

Thirty-two.

Divorced.

Worked in marketing at Brad’s company.

And, according to Brad, “basically one of the guys.”

Apparently one of the guys also sent my husband photographs at midnight wearing nothing but his company shirt.

I had discovered the affair three weeks earlier.

Not because Brad confessed.

Because our eight-year-old daughter, Sophie, borrowed his tablet to play a game.

His messages synchronized automatically.

She brought it to me.

“Mom, who’s Melissa?”