It washer.
I wasn't crazy.
I wasn't imagining things.
And the fact that she called to taunt me…shewantedme to know.
I didn't intend to start following Gianna afterward. I really didn't. But grief and love have a way of making sane womendo insane things. So, I dropped an AirTag inside Bishop's truck. And for three straight nights, I watched him parked outside the same address for hours.
One evening while he and the twins were out bowling and at dinner, I finally went there myself. And I saw her. Standing outside laughing on the phone completely unaware of me watching from across the street.
She looked happy. Carefree.
Meanwhile I was drowning.
I should've hated her instantly. But instead…I just stared. Trying to understand what about her made my husband willing to emotionally abandon his family. I wanted to confront her right then. Drag her by that pretty hair and demand answers.
But I didn't. I followed her. Not constantly. Just enough. Just enough to see if she was meeting Bishop. But strangely…she never did. Not once.
I stopped following her when I got upset and followed her and Remy too close one night. I couldn't help it. I was pissed. She had a handsome, successful man who loved her and she still wanted to takemine.
How fucking selfish could she be? To have it all and still want more.
Ihatedher for that.
Hated how pretty she was. How loved she was. How she got to laugh and hold hands in public while I laid awake at night wondering where my husband was.
And then Remy showed up with Devon on my doorstep.
The things he said—
No.
NO.
Bishop would never do anything like that. I refused to believe it. But I would be remiss in saying that the casual way in which he treated the situation didn't make me pause. He didn'tseem shocked enough. Angry enough. He just looked…annoyed. Like Remy showing up was an inconvenience instead of a man accusing him of stalking.
And that sat in my spirit wrong.
At that point, I made sure he understood we were attached at the hip. I needed to know exactly where he was at all times. He called it 'smothering' but I called it protecting my family. I didn't want my husband going back to jail. The twins and I needed him. So as his wife—I needed to save him from himself.
And then it all went wrong…
He left me.
I was so pissed off, I just took an Uber there, breathing through the rage while checking the AirTag repeatedly. I wasn’t even sure where the hell I was going but I knew this shit was ending tonight one way or another.
The second I saw his name on the apartment listing my vision blurred.
He really did it.
Got a whole apartment.
A whole secret life.
Some little hiding spot where he could fuck his whore in peace while I sat home raising his children like a fucking fool.
Someone exited the building and I rushed in before the door closed, my heart beating so hard it hurt. By the time I made it upstairs I was shaking with rage so bad my fingers felt numb.
