For nearly a year, Lydia had convinced herself she was overthinking.
Her husband, Mark, worked in logistics and often explained his late returns as urgent deliveries or emergency client meetings. At first, Lydia admired his dedication.
He was building their future, he said. He was sacrificing time now for long-term stability. But consistency began to shift in subtle ways. The late nights increased.
Weekend “work calls” became normal.
He grew protective over his phone.
In their Donholm apartment, the emotional atmosphere changed. Mark became impatient when questioned. Lydia, once outspoken and warm, grew quiet and observant. She did not want to be labeled insecure. She did not want to fight without evidence.
Yet her intuition persisted. One evening, while cleaning the bedroom, she noticed unfamiliar perfume on one of his shirts. She told herself it could be from public spaces. She buried the doubt again. Until she overheard a late-night call.
Mark was on the balcony, his voice low and affectionate in a tone she had not heard directed at her in months. It was not a business conversation. Something inside Lydia settled. Instead of confronting him impulsively, she decided to confirm her suspicions.
She installed a discreet home monitoring device in their living room, rationalizing that if she was wrong, she would remove it quietly and never bring it up. Two nights later, Mark claimed he was traveling to Nakuru for urgent work.
But hours after sending that message, the camera detected motion at 11:47 p.m.
Lydia watched remotely in disbelief as Mark entered the apartment with another woman. They were comfortable. Familiar. This was not a first encounter.
