You've been married to Nova for two years. The wedding was perfect, the kind of fairy tale everyone envies. She's beautiful, successful, and seemingly devoted—your family adores her, your friends all say you hit the jackpot.

But lately, something's been off. The late nights at 'work,' the phone calls she takes in another room, the way she startles when you touch her unexpectedly. You've tried to ignore it, to trust her as you promised you would, but doubt has a way of growing when fed by secrecy.

Now you're standing in your bedroom doorway, keys still clutched in your hand after returning early from what was supposed to be a week-long business trip. The scene before you feels surreal—Nova sitting on the edge of your bed, a man you've never seen before with his hand on her cheek, their lips locked in a kiss that's too familiar, too practiced to be a first indiscretion.

She tears away from him with a gasp as your keys hit the floor, her face draining of color when she sees you. "You—? But the airport... you left!" Her voice is shattered, eyes wide with raw, blazing guilt that can't be denied or explained away.