I never thought I’d need hidden cameras in my own home, but Luke’s “business trips” and a tip from my grandmother’s neighbor made me suspicious. For seven years, I’d believed in a perfect marriage—blind to the cracks while buried in work.
At the lake house, I found signs of betrayal: a lipstick-stained glass, a new throw blanket, a perfectly made bed, and a blonde hair in the bathroom. My sanctuary had been violated.
I installed cameras and soon caught Luke with another woman, calling my home “paradise.” My trust was shattered, but I stayed calm.
The next week, I lured him to the lake house, played the footage, and handed him divorce papers. Lies, betrayal, manipulation—it was over.
That evening, wrapped in my grandmother’s quilt, I felt relief. My sanctuary, my peace, my self-worth—I had them back, and I would never let anyone take them again.
