I left the scene, and grabbed myself a glass of water in the kitchen. I want to call Jasper, but something stopped me from doing so. Instead, I went through the bank statements the anonymous sender. I found a name in the recepients file. Sophia Smith.
Immediately, I searched the name in social media and found a matching account. The earliest post was a year ago, around July. It was a photo of a two hands holding each other. And she wrote: 'Thank you for accompanying me in my birthday. I love you, honey.'
My breathing hitched. Needless to say, I recognized Jasper's hand right away. It was the same hand that held mine earlier. I knew it was him by the scar on his backhand.
A year ago, July, I lost our first baby. I suffered alone in the hospital, broken with the news of the miscarriage, almost dying in pain and heartbreak. And where was my husband? It turned out that he was busy accompanying his mistress of his.
I scrolled again, finding intimate pictures of them together, luxurious gifts, trips and events. My hands were trembling, tears spilling from my eyes. The pain was like a thousands cuts. How could Jasper do this to me?
I saw a video where Sophia was filming. She asked, "Will you love me till the day I die?" Even though Jasper was deliberately out of the frame, I couldn't miss his voice.
"Of course, babe," he answered gently, in a tone I terribly missed. "Till the day that I die."
My sobs grew bigger. What about me, Jasper? What about us? Was the love we share forgotten that easily?
Out of impulse, I called Jasper. I was hoping he denied. Hoping to hear that he wasn't the man in the photos. That he was still my husband. The one I love and loves me too.
With trembling hands, I held my phone. Jasper answered shortly.
"Hey, baby? I'm sorry I was busy. I'll be home in a while."
Lies! He was clearly with Sofia. From her recent post, they were at a pastry shop.
"Okay. Drive safely," I answered, swallowing my sobs. "Come home soon, please."
Before Jasper hang up, I could hear Sophia's sweet voice in the background: "Love, do like this chocolate? This has peanuts in it. I know you love them."
For a while, I thought I was hallucinating. I thought this was all a joke, a nightmare, a nasty prank. Our marriage of four years ended at this point and all I can do was cry my heart out.
My baby kicked, as if trying to console me. I rubbed my belly.