The next 48 hours were the longest 48 hour a of my life.
I woke up next to Asher, made coffee, worked on jewellery designs I couldn't focus on, ate meals I couldn't taste, played the perfect wife while my burner phone kept hidden silently under my worktable.
Everytime it didn't buzz, my anxiety spiked higher.
What if Maya couldn't crack the encryption? What if she found nothing? What if I was wrong about everything and I was destroying my marriage over paranoia? But then what about the recordings? I just bed concrete proof.
Day one passed. Then day two.
Asher was normal. He brought me coffee while I worked, asked about my designs, kissed me goodbye in the mornings. Either he truly suspected nothing, or he was the best actor in the world.
The night, exactly after 48 hours, I lay in bed next to him, staring at the ceiling. My burner phone was in my studio.
Why hadn't Maya contacted me?
Maybe it was taking longer, maybe the encryption was more complex than she thought.
