My Husband Was Pulling On His Pants When I Came Home With Our Baby’s Ultrasound—My Best Friend Was Hiding Behind My Maternity Coats

Monday, 8:00 AM.

The alarm on my phone went off. I sat up, feeling a strange, electric current running through my veins.

Downstairs, I could hear Damon preparing for work. He was running late.

I walked down the stairs, dressed in a sharp navy blazer and trousers. I carried my purse and my laptop bag.

Damon was standing by the kitchen island, drinking his coffee. He looked up, surprised to see me fully dressed and carrying my bags.

"Nora? Where are you going?"

I didn't answer. I sat my laptop on the counter and opened it.

At 8:01 AM, Damon’s phone buzzed. A second later, my laptop chimed, confirming the delivery of the email to Owen.

Damon picked up his phone. I watched his face.

First, his eyebrows furrowed. Then, the color drained from his cheeks, leaving him a sickly, chalky white.

"What... what is this?" he whispered.

"That," I said, turning my laptop screen toward him, "is the notification from our bank. Your personal accounts, our joint accounts, and your little nest egg with Claire have been frozen by court order."

Damon stared at the screen, his mouth opening and closing like a fish. "Nora... I don't... this is a mistake. What joint account with Claire?"

"Don't lie, Damon," I said, my voice incredibly calm, almost conversational. "It’s pathetic. I know about the five thousand dollars a month. I know about the sapphire bracelet. And I know about the champagne camisole."

He took a step back, his hands shaking. "Nora, please... let me explain. It was a mistake. It didn't mean anything—"

"It meant everything," I interrupted. "It meant you chose to betray your pregnant wife with her best friend. It meant you chose to steal from your daughter."

Before he could respond, his phone began to ring. The caller ID showed Claire.

He didn't answer. The phone rang and rang, then stopped, only to start ringing again instantly.

"You should answer that," I said. "I imagine Owen has just opened his email."

Damon’s eyes widened in sheer horror. "What did you do?"

"I sent him the video," I said. "The video from our bedroom last Friday night. The one where Claire laughed about my registry and you called her your 'future wife.' It’s a very high-quality recording, Damon. The night vision is spectacular."