Underneath the cover of our seemingly perfect life, Derrick had been conducting a terrifying operation. I felt my heart sink as I scrolled through the photos on his laptop. Each folder contained not only images of me but also of other women. Some of their faces were familiar, women I’d seen at neighborhood gatherings, at the grocery store, even the barista at my favorite café. My heart pounded in my chest, fear and anger warring within me. I wasn’t just living with a husband who betrayed me; he was a predator exploiting women within our community.
My mind raced, trying to piece together a plan. I had to act quickly, strategically, before Derrick returned. The reality of my situation was suffocating, but I couldn’t afford to crumble under its weight. I transferred the contents of his laptop onto a secure flash drive, meticulously ensuring that I left no trace of my intrusion. Each click felt like a ticking clock, counting down the moments until he might return.
