HE TOLD ME HE WAS WORKING LATE BUT I FOUND THE SD CARD UNDER HIS PILLOW
My fingers closed around something small and hard tucked beneath the satin pillowcase. Noticing the strange, small bump as I smoothed the sheets, I dug my fingers deeper beneath the fabric. It felt like a tiny, cold piece of plastic under his side. My heart started a frantic, loud drumming against my ribs in the silent room.
Pulling it out, I saw the unmistakable glint of a tiny black SD card, smaller than my thumbnail. Dread pooled cold in my stomach as I recognized it from the dusty old camcorder in the attic. He’d told me he was stuck on a mandatory conference call until well after midnight again tonight.
I fumbled awkwardly with my laptop, my hands shaking so badly I almost dropped it onto the floor. The screen flickered to life, showing a single folder filled with video files labeled with dates from just last week. I clicked the newest one, the air in the room suddenly thick and smelling faintly of stale cigarettes. “What exactly *is* this?” I whispered into the empty bedroom.
The video file opened instantly, playing without any buffer or pause. It was a dark, cheap-looking motel room, the camera poorly pointed towards the bed. A figure moved into the frame from the side, adjusting the lens slightly in the dim light.
The recording showed her face clearly, laughing at the camera.
👇 *Full story continued in the comments…*She was younger than me, with bright, artificial blonde hair and a laugh that sounded like tiny bells jingling. She adjusted the flimsy strap of a revealing tank top and winked at the camera before turning her head towards the side. Then he walked into the frame.
It was him. Smiling, not the tired, strained smile he’d worn leaving the house, but a relaxed, genuine one I hadn’t seen in months. He leaned down, kissing her forehead softly before saying something I couldn’t quite hear over the faint hum of the motel’s air conditioner on the video. She giggled again, wrapping her arms around his neck and pulling him closer.
My breath hitched in my throat. My vision swam. It wasn’t just a fling; this was intimate, affectionate. The video continued for only another minute or so, showing them talking quietly, his hand resting casually on her leg under the thin blanket, her head tucked into his shoulder. It was a snapshot of a casual, comfortable affair. The date on the file confirmed it was just yesterday.
A sob tore through me, a ragged, silent sound that felt like it was ripping my chest apart. I wanted to throw the laptop, smash it into a million pieces, erase the image of his familiar face looking so happy with someone else. But I just sat there, frozen, the cold plastic of the SD card still clutched in my hand.
He hadn’t been working late. He had been here, in this cheap room, with *her*. All the nights he’d “had to stay late,” all the missed dinners, the cancelled plans, the increasing distance between us – it all clicked into sickening place. The smell in the room wasn’t just stale cigarettes from the video; it was the scent of betrayal thick in the air.
I closed the laptop with a quiet click, the screen going black and reflecting my own distorted, tear-streaked face back at me. The SD card felt heavy now, a tiny block of irrefutable proof. My heart didn’t drum anymore; it felt like a lead weight in my chest. There was no confusion, no whispering “what is this?” anymore. I knew exactly what it was. It was the end of everything. I slowly got up, the room suddenly feeling vast and empty, and walked towards the closet, my feet heavy on the floorboards.