The Six Sense Chapter 1

It was the tenth year of my marriage to Kenneth Rogers.

I discovered he was cheating on me not according to any photos or proof, just a gut feeling triggered by his unusually cheerful "Good morning" one morning.

When the investigator sent me the photo, I was at my usual coffee shop, ordering my cappuccino.

The steam from my coffee blurred the image on my phone, but the truth was clear.

Kenneth had cheated on me with a girl who had just turned twenty, twelve years younger than me.

The photo showed Kenneth gazing at her with deep affection.

I set down my cup, feeling the bitterness of the coffee match my mood.

It was two days ago that I found out the first signs of his cheating.

That morning, he woke up beaming, wore a sweater instead of his usual dark suit, and greeted me with, "Good morning."

A woman's intuition was often considered accurate, and mine proved to be correct.

On a day when there were no photos, no evidence, and no woman at the door, I was sure that my husband of ten years had cheated on me.

After he left, I hired a private detective, and today's findings confirmed my suspicions.

I felt unnaturally calm, almost as if I had lost my feelings for Kenneth.

I saved the photos, made the final payment to the detective, paid for the coffee, and took a taxi to Kenneth's office.

The receptionist saw me and was about to inform him, but I stopped her.

I took the elevator to the ninth floor.

When I opened the door, Kenneth was absorbed in his phone, giggling.

As soon as he saw me, his expression shifted to warmth. "Elaina, what brings you here?"

I held his gaze, noticing the sweat forming on his forehead and the panic in his eyes.

To make him uncomfortable, I said, "I just remembered today is our 10th anniversary, so I booked a restaurant and thought we could go out after work."

His face paled for a moment. He had completely forgotten.

I knew he had plans to take the young girl to the amusement park that evening.

The detective had even provided me with that girl's Twitter account.

Out of boredom, I browsed through it.

They had met ten months ago, and her name was Jasmin Weaver.

She was a dessert maker at a cake shop, which explained the frequent appearance of Jasmin's Handmade desserts at home.

Kenneth had even brought home mango desserts a couple of times, despite my allergy to them.

She also owned a white cat, which explained the cat hair on Kenneth.

Kenneth had always claimed to be allergic to cats, so I never owned one.

It seemed he was sacrificing for this new love.

The twenty-year-old was easy to understand, and she shared sweet moments with Kenneth online.

Her posts were filled with affection, referring to Kenneth as "Uncle."

For the past nine months, she had documented their sweet moments together.

[Uncle came to buy cake today. I drew love hearts on it, making it extra special.]

[Uncle confessed his love to me. It feels like a dream. I'm the happiest girl in the world.]

And she posted a picture of roses.

That night, Kenneth didn't come home. I remember it vividly because I had a stomachache and couldn't reach him after multiple calls.

The next day, he returned, hugged me, and apologized, claiming he had to work late due to a company emergency.