Richard was certain his wife would betray him, so he decided to put her to the testand was left utterly stunned.
Darling, arent you at risk of being late? Jane asked as Richard spoke hurriedly on his mobile. Your flights in less than two hours.
Havent I told you? Richards expression flickered with a hint of surprise. The business trips been pushed back. Looks like Ill be travelling in a few days instead.
I see, Jane replied, and dashed off to the kitchen, grabbing her phone almost the moment she entered. After firing off a message to someone, she returned to the lounge, poker-faced. That brief exchange only confirmed Richards darkest suspicions. Jane always let him go out for drinks with the lads and never made a fuss when business called him away. She never complained, even when he stumbled home after too many gin and tonics. All of his mates insisted that women like Jane were hens teethutterly rare, no strings attached. But the uneasy guilt gnawed endlessly at him.
There was the age gapRichard was eight years her senior. What if shed found a younger man, someone who made her heart race? Richard, at least, had the sense to keep such doubts locked away. Accusing someone without proof would have been a dreadful misstep. He needed certaintynothing short of proof. So, tormented and restless, he couldnt think of anything better than tucking security cameras discreetly around the flat.
When his trip finally came, Richard left home in a foul mood. Even Jane had noticed the cloud above him and was ready to offer him some paracetamol. Her gentle concern did ease his mind for a fleeting momentperhaps, he thought, he was being ridiculous after all. He didnt even have the heart or time to check the camera feeds online. It was late at night, hotel room curtains drawn, when Richard would finally open his laptop, flick through a few minutes of footage, and then shut the screen firmly, trying to keep temptation at bay.
The days away bled together swiftly. On the morning he returned, with Jane off to work, Richard pulled out his laptop and opened the videos at last. He still recoiled from learning the full truth.
He sat down, hands trembling, and started watching the footage from the start. All seemed mundane at first: Jane waking up, eating her toast, tidying the flat. But as the afternoon rolled in, Richard noticed Janeusually so well put togetherlounging in his oversized t-shirt and shorts, glued to the computer, lost in a game. From the speakers came the voices of other players, laughter and chatter mingling with her own. Jane, it seemed, was hopelessly hooked on online games.
Well, thats hardly ideal, Richard murmured to himself. But everyones got their little vices. He breathed out, a little calmer now.
He skimmed through the rest of the recordings, fast forwarding through every chore, every idle hour. Nothing changed. No sign of another soul crossing their doorway. No evidence of infidelity, not even a whisper of suspicion justified.
Closing the laptop, Richard slumped back and exhaled, weighed down by shame for thinking so poorly of Jane. Guilt stung him sharply. What have I done? he whispered, heart heavy. He resolved to make it up to herhed stop by the florists on his way home and get Jane an enormous bunch of red roses, maybe even book a table for two at the pub for a proper romantic dinner.
Still, Richard hesitated to take down the cameras entirely. Something stopped him. Little did he knowYet when Jane returned that evening, flushed from the brisk walk home, Richard greeted her at the door with flowers trembling in his grasp. She blinked at the bouquet, then at his sheepish, regretful smile.
For me? she gasped with delighted surprise.
For you. For always putting up with me, Richard said softly, pressing the roses into her arms. And for being well, you. Forgive me?
Jane studied him for a momenta long, mischievous lookand then, with a sudden laugh, swept him into a hug. Youre acting very odd today, Mr. Chandler. But I suppose I quite like it.
Later, as Jane slipped away to change, Richard wandered through the flat, pausing before the subtle bulge behind a picture framethe tiny camera, still quietly watching. He lingered, guilt warring with relief, and wrestled with his final decision.
That night, after their dinner, after Janes laughter had warmed every dark corner of his mind, Richard returned to the hallway. With careful fingers, he pried the camera free and dropped it into a drawer. The next morning, he tucked every last device into a shoebox, taping it shut for good measure.
He didnt need proof anymoreonly trust.
Weeks passed. Jane remained as bright and carefree as ever, except now Richard sat with her some evenings, controller in hand, learning the language of pixels and laughter. Once he even caught himself throwing his head back and laughing at something ridiculous her virtual friends had said, and Jane glanced over at him, her eyes shining with pride.
It turned out, trust wasnt about never doubting. It was about choosing, every day, to believeagain and again. Richard stopped watching for cracks in the foundation and started building something sturdier with Jane, brick by brick, joy by joy. And for the first time in years, when he left for business, he missed hernot because of fear, but for all the small, certain reasons love endures.
