Pressed Play in Church

I wasn’t supposed to be home yet. Machine broke down at work. Shift ended early.

I pulled into the driveway at 3PM. Her car was there. So was the priest’s. That morning she

told me he was coming over. She said she needed guidance. Said she felt lost.

The house was quiet when I walked in. Too quiet. Then I heard her voice.

Upstairs. Soft. Breathless. I didn’t call out. I didn’t move.

I walked up the stairs slowly. Each step louder than the last. Our bedroom door

was cracked. I didn’t open it. I didn’t need to. I saw enough. I took out my phone.

Recorded for less than a minute. Hands steady. Then I walked out. Drove away.