12 สามีเป็นของข้าผู้เดียว

FREYA

I sat on the cold kitchen floor at 12am with Mark’s iPad in my lap, staring at a video I never should have seen.

My daughter, Luna, had fallen asleep on the couch with her unicorn cup still in her hand, so I carried her upstairs, tucked her in, and came back down to finish clearing up. That was when I noticed Mark’s iPad sitting open on the counter.

I wondered what made him forget it here. He always guarded it like he carried the country’s nuclear codes. He even took it into the bathroom. Well… he said he had to monitor the company’s live sales or something.

I picked it up to drop it in the bedroom for him, but the screen lit up as soon as my fingers touched it. The first thing I saw made my whole body pause.

The wallpaper was not the family photo from Luna’s first birthday. It was Mark, Luna, and Lila Monroe at an outdoor café. Sunshine everywhere. Lila had Luna on her lap. Her arm sat around Mark’s shoulders. They were smiling like one big happy family.

My stomach tightened. I kept telling myself not to overthink it, but the picture felt wrong. Lila was supposed to be a family friend. A forced one, honestly. Luna loved her content as a popular children’s creator, and Mark went to college with her, so I learned to tolerate her.

I looked toward the stairs. Our bedroom light was off. Mark was probably asleep by now. I stood there for a second, not even knowing what to do with the picture burning in my head. Like, does it even make sense?

Before I knew it, I walked into the kitchen, sat on the cold floor, pulled the iPad closer, and opened his photo album.

I started scrolling. One picture. Then another. Then another. Every photo felt like a punch. Mark smiled boldly. Luna is smiling. Lila is smiling. All three of them are together in different places. Cafés. Parks. A toy store. A drive-through selfie with milkshakes. Every image gave a happy family energy. The kind of vibe I crave but always get excuses instead.

Now I finally understood why Luna kept rejecting me these past few months. I kept brushing it off as kids being kids. Every time I tried taking her to school, she said Daddy and Aunty Lili wanted to. Even when I planned something small for us, she would say Aunty Lili already promised her. I picked it as innocent baby words. That stage where they copy whatever they hear online. And since Lila was a children’s content creator, I never saw it as more than an influence.

But then it became a pattern. For months, Mark and Luna went out together a lot. At first it looked like daddy and daughter bonding. Cute moments I never questioned. Until Luna kept coming home with Aunty Lili this and Aunty Lili that. New clothes. New toys. Bracelets. Expensive hair accessories. Things I knew I never bought.

Bit by bit, all the signs I ignored were stacking up in this album.

I kept scrolling until I saw a folder tucked between his regular ones. No name. Just a timestamp. My stomach tightened again. Something in me said not to open it, but I clicked anyway.

A row of videos loaded.

I tapped the first one.

The screen went bright, and then the movement started. I almost lost my breath. My chest locked up. My fingers shook so hard I almost dropped the iPad.

It was a sex clip.

And it was Mark.

And Lila.

I froze. My ears rang. My whole body went cold at once, like someone pulled the ground from under me. The sounds in the video. Her voice. That loud moan. His hands. The way he held her. Not even close to how he used to hold me. Or maybe I should remind myself it has been a while since he got close to me. The last time he only kissed me for a few seconds before saying he was tired from work.

I couldn’t blink or breathe looking at what he shared with Lila. It wasn’t just sex. It was rough. Almost BDSM. And I would be stupid to say I didn’t see this coming. I couldn’t think of a single reason to explain any of it. Watching it felt like someone reached into my chest and crushed something that will never grow back.

I paused the video, but the image stayed burned into my mind.

My hands were trembling. My chest tightened with every heartbeat. I didn’t know if I should go upstairs, wake Mark, or just… disappear for a second.

I held the iPad tight, like it was the only thing anchoring me while my mind was spinning, trying to make sense of this. Trying to find an excuse. A reason. Anything.

I stood up, legs weak and stiff from the cold floor. I walked toward the stairs slowly until I reached the bottom step and froze.

I leaned against the railing, gripping it for support. My whole body shivered, not from cold but from fear. Fear of what happens next. Everything in our life felt like it had been a lie, and I didn’t know if I had the strength to face the truth or the strength to pretend I didn’t see this.

I swallowed hard and moved up the next step.

When I pushed open the bedroom door, I stopped.

Mark was there sleeping peacefully. His chest rising and falling with quiet breaths. My stomach twisted. Every part of me wanted to throw the iPad at him. Scream. Wake him. Demand answers. But I couldn’t. Seeing him so calm and unaware of what I had just uncovered made my blood boil in a way I didn’t know I could feel.

I dropped the iPad on the nightstand. It hit softly. I stepped back, swallowed the knot in my throat, and left the room. I might actually do the unthinkable if I stayed in that bed tonight.