For months, John lived a double life—charming husband by day, cheating liar by night. He thought he was clever, drugging Helen’s wine so he could sneak away without suspicion.
That night seemed like all the others. Helen yawned at dinner, said she was tired. He helped her to bed, then slipped out to see his mistress.
But when he returned, something was different.
Helen stood by the window, wide awake. “I know, John,” she said softly.
Then she stepped aside, revealing a wall full of photos—him and the other woman, caught in every lie.
“I waited for you to come clean,” she said. “You never did.”
She walked out. No yelling. No second chances.
And in the silence, John finally realized—he hadn’t just lost Helen. He’d lost himself.
