“He’s Worse Than You Think”
“Stacey, what’s going on?” I asked, every shred of annoyance gone.
“Alan… he’s not who I thought he was. He’s worse, Lily. So much worse.”
A cold shiver crawled up my spine. Worse than the serial cheating and abandonment I already knew?
“What are you talking about?”
She took a shaky breath. “He has a wardrobe in his office. He always told me not to go in there. Yesterday, I did.”
She paused, then whispered: “The inside is covered in photos. Of women. Dozens of women. Me. You. Her. Others I don’t even recognize. They all have dates and numbers written on them.”
My grip tightened on the phone. “What kind of photos?”
“All kinds,” she said. “Some normal, some… not. And there were journals. Notes about each woman. Ratings. Comments. He’s been doing this for years, Lily. I think he was cheating on both of us. On everyone.”
A twisted wave of vindication and dread washed over me. Part of me wanted to scream, I told you so. Another part recognized the fear in her voice — a fear I remembered all too well.
“Why are you telling me this now?” I asked. “You married him knowing what he did to me.”
Her voice cracked. “Because I didn’t believe you. I thought you were bitter. But now I’m scared. I don’t know what he’ll do if he finds out I’ve seen it. Please… can I come over? I don’t feel safe.”
Less than an hour later, Stacey was on my couch, pale and shaking, clutching her phone like a lifeline.
“Start talking,” I said, arms crossed. “All of it.”
She told me everything — how she’d waited for him to leave on a two-day fishing trip, how she’d pried open the locked wardrobe with a screwdriver, how the photos and journals confirmed what she’d refused to see for years.
“At least forty women while he was married to you,” she whispered. “And eight more just in the two months since we got married.”
Forty.
I felt sick.
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