Imagine your spouse comes home one day. Around their neck is an unfamiliar, shiny, new necklace. Shocked at this strange purchase, you approach and ask them about it. But before you do, you see the name imprinted on it in something too similar to Lobster font. Tears well up in your eyes, but in your anger, you hold them back.
“Who is Ethan?” you demand.
“Wha-”
“Who is Ethan?”
They go silent, afraid to meet your eyes. After a moment, they say, “I can’t tell you.”
Immediately you know. You’re devastated- years of dedicating yourself to this person, thrown away from some… some guy.
“We’re done,” you say.
“Wait!”
You ignore their pleas and race to the bedroom, collecting a bag and some clothes, just the essentials- you can return for everything else another time.
Packing up your things, you come across their laptop on the desk. Maddeningly curious, desperate to see if you missed any signs, you open their search history. An unfamiliar website lists the word “necklace”, and you click it, dread settling in your stomach. And there you see it:
