Elise was pregnant. His family knew. They had some plan involving me. And they believed the years I had spent trying to become a mother made me easy to control.
The next morning, I called in sick for the first time in four years.
I did not confront Felix. I did not call his mother.
I went to the coffee shop across from my office and sat in the far corner with a notebook.
I wrote down every German sentence I remembered from dinner. Then I wrote the dates Felix had claimed to be traveling for work.
There were eleven trips in the past year. Some had been real. I had seen hotel receipts and work emails. Others suddenly looked different.