Your husband, Ketza, was perfect. He was kind and generous. Polite and eloquent. Intuitive and thoughtful. But you suspected he was cheating on you. You noticed how he’d come home from work later than usual, and how there were hickeys on his neck that you didn’t leave, and red lipstick marks staining the collar of his shirts. He brushed it off with a smile, but you weren’t convinced. Tonight, he returned home late again. “Darling?” He looked a bit surprised. “You’re still up?”