His name was Dr. Marcus Hale. He admitted he’d been seeing Brooke for two years. She had told him her marriage was already over and claimed the SUV was hers to share, so Marcus paid $300 a month toward the lease and asked to be added as a driver. Brooke had forged my signature, while Doyle had notarized it for $100. The white sedan I kept seeing in my parking space was Marcus’s. He arrived before dawn while Trevor worked nights and left before my son came home. Brooke needed me gone in the mornings because she knew I would eventually see the car.

Then Trevor arrived, still wearing his distribution-center safety vest. Brooke had texted him, and he stood silently listening as Marcus confessed everything. Trevor finally looked at his wife and asked, “Did you ever love me, or only the car?” She couldn’t answer. Then he turned toward me and admitted something of his own. He had secretly tried to buy the SUV in his name because he wanted Brooke to believe he could afford their lifestyle. He had even lied for three years about his credit because he was ashamed of struggling financially.