I Trailed My Husband at 3 A.M.—And Witnessed the End of My Marriage

counter.

No water glass. No footsteps. No sign he’d been there at all.

Then—creak. The front door opened. My heart lurched.

Dave stepped inside, closing it softly. “God, you scared me,” I said, tightening my robe. “Where were you?”

He froze, just long enough for me to notice, then shrugged.

“Just taking the trash out.”

“At three in the morning?”