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“Just me tonight,” I replied, attempting to sound upbeat. Tom nodded and hurriedly turned to leave—perhaps too hastily.
As I closed the door, his behavior left me unsettled. Was he alright? Brushing aside my concerns, I brought the warm box to the kitchen. The familiar scent of garlic and tomato sauce enveloped me, usually a comforting embrace.
My fingers fumbled as I activated the tablet controlling our door camera. The ominous message from the pizza box had set my nerves on edge, making every moment until the app opened feel endless. I scrolled through the camera’s recorded history, each swipe intensifying the suspense.
Then, it appeared.
Every time I was away, it seemed, Jake had company. Different women, each visit documented clearly by the camera he had installed, ironically, for our safety.
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