Woman talking to a hotel receptionist | Source: Pexels
After work the next day, I raced back to the hotel, heart pounding, laptop in hand. I didn’t know what I expected to find. Maybe I was losing it.
But then I pressed play.
1:03 p.m.
There they were. Molly and Patrick. On my couch. Her legs wrapped around him like it was their home. My kids were just out of frame, their tiny voices drifting in from the next room. I choked on my breath. My hands shook as I fast-forwarded, bile rising in my throat.
That’s when I noticed the audio.
I unmuted it. And everything went still.
“…shouldn’t stay long,” Patrick was saying. “Georgia might come home early.”
“She won’t,” Molly replied. “She trusts you. And me.”
He laughed. “She’s always been too trusting.”
Couple cuddling on the couch | Source: Pexels
Then her voice dropped. “So… when?”
“Soon. Once the custody stuff is in motion. You’ve already got them calling you ‘Mommy.’ That’s step one.”
