Chapter 1
The sound of that spare key hitting the patio floor was so small, but everyone in my backyard heard it.
Nobody moved. Not my wife. Not her boss. Not the neighbors from two houses down who had come over with a tray of cupcakes and that polite American smile people wear when they don't want to admit they're watching a marriage fall apart in real time.
The string lights above the patio were still glowing. The grill was still smoking. Red plastic cups sat along the fence, and someone's country playlist kept playing from the speaker by the back door. But the whole party had gone quiet.
My name is Mark Holloway. A few minutes earlier, my wife Lauren had been laughing like she owned the night, standing beside her boss near the patio table, close enough that his hand rested on her waist like it belonged there. When he pulled her in and kissed her, I heard one of our friends whisper, "Oh my God."
Lauren didn't push him away. She looked at me afterward with a smile I had never seen before. Not guilty. Not embarrassed. Almost proud.
"Don't ruin the night," she said. "This house may still be yours, but I'm not."
Daniel Price gave a little laugh, then reached into his pocket and held up my spare key between two fingers. "Looks like I'll be using it a lot."
I put my glass down on the patio table. "Go ahead," I said. "But before you worry about using that key, you should probably worry about yourself first."
"Is that supposed to scare me?" Daniel asked.
May you like
Before I could answer, the side gate opened.
What I haven't told you yet is what I'd spent the previous six weeks doing, ever since I first found the texts on Lauren's laptop — texts that made clear this wasn't a recent development, that she and Daniel had been involved for nearly a year, conducted largely during business trips that Daniel's company, Halverson Price Logistics, had been billing as client development expenses.
