The footsteps stopped, and then I heard it. A voice.
A whisper.
“I’m sorry.”
It was Diane’s voice, muffled, but clear enough for me to recognize. I had never heard her whisper like that before. It wasn’t the casual whisper of someone trying not to wake up a child. It was an apology. But not just any apology — it was an apology that carried weight, regret, and guilt.
I held my breath, waiting, trying to make sense of what was happening.
Then, I heard another voice — a man’s voice. It was low, rough, but full of something else — something I hadn’t expected.
“It’s not enough,” the man said. “You can’t keep running back to him every time things get hard.”
My heart stopped.
It wasn’t just my ex-wife and Cooper in the living room.
I could hear the faint sound of a kiss — soft, intimate — followed by the sound of a body shifting.
