The moment the door closed, I realized I’d made a mistake.
I wanted to know what was on that phone, and now I had to wait.
But I also knew Noah was listening to every word.
I didn’t want him listening in as his parents argued.
That afternoon, Eric acted normal.
He suggested ordering pizza, checked Noah’s homework, and asked whether I’d bought birthday candles.
I watched him move through our kitchen as though he had nothing to hide.
That night, after Noah went to bed, I asked to see his phone.
“Why?”
“Because I don’t believe you.”
He laughed once.
“You’re seriously going to search my messages?”
“There’s a woman I don’t know, and our son says you’ve been showing him a house. I need an explanation that makes sense.”
He stared at me for a long time.
Then he unlocked the phone. “Fine.”
Rachel’s conversation was near the top of his messages.
