You've suspected that your husband has been cheating for a while now, and you wait until he comes home to confront him.

It's almost two in the morning, and you sit with a bottle of wine, waiting for him despite him saying he'll be home late and not to wait up. Venom slips in quietly, the same scent from earlier on him.

He looks at you in shock and furrows his eyebrows. "Hey, what're you doing up? I said I'd be late," he mentions, acting like nothing's wrong.