I Found Out My Husband Was Cheating Thanks to the Digital Scale, Then I Taught Him a Lesson

When Corin sees an unfamiliar number on her scales, her heart drops — could her husband Martin be cheating? She decides to shadow Martin, and what she discovers makes her take a bold step. "It's time," Corin says, deciding to teach him a lesson he'll never forget.

In the quiet morning light of Martin's house, Corin stepped onto the electronic scales, expecting the usual numbers that greeted her every day. But today, the scales flashed a weight, making her heart sink and her mind race. It was a number she knew wasn't hers, nor could it be Martin's. Confusion twisted into suspicion within her, a seed of doubt planted firmly in her mind.

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She had meticulously programmed it for her workout and weight loss regimen, leaving no room for such an anomaly.

Martin, her husband, was strumming his guitar in the living room, lost in the melodies that filled their home. His concert was just around the corner, and every note needed to be perfect. But the discordant note of tension was about to disrupt his rehearsal.

"Martin, can we talk?" Corin's voice was a mix of concern and accusation as she approached him, holding up her phone as evidence of her unrest. Martin looked up, his eyes meeting hers. He could sense the storm brewing.

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"What's wrong, Corin?" he asked, setting his guitar aside, his expression a blend of curiosity and concern.

Martin sighed, a gesture of someone who had tread this path of reassurance many times before. "Corin, love, you need to calm down. These scales are just machines. They can malfunction, or maybe it was just a mistake. You know I wouldn't"

"But it doesn't make sense!" Corin interrupted, her voice rising, a clear sign of her brewing paranoia.

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Martin stood, his patience waning but his voice steady. "I'm tired, Corin. I'm tired of defending myself against suspicions that have no ground. You need to focus on yourself and us rather than letting these unfounded doubts cloud your mind."

Corin's heart raced with a mix of anger and confusion. She wanted to believe him, to let go of the nagging doubts, but the seed of suspicion had taken root too deeply.

Martin returned to his guitar, his fingers resuming their dance across the strings. "I need to rehearse, Corin. The concert is important."

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But Corin couldn't let it go. As Martin lost himself in his music, she made a decision. She would follow him, verify her suspicions, or perhaps prove them wrong. With her mind a whirlwind of thoughts, Corin left the house, determined to uncover the truth behind the mysterious weight, not realizing the journey she was about to embark on would lead her down a path from which there was no easy return.

***

As the morning sun cast a soft glow through the curtains, Corinne found Martin in the living room, lost in the melodies flowing from his guitar. The serene picture he painted starkly contrasted the turmoil swirling within her. Taking a deep breath, she braced herself for the conversation she had rehearsed countless times in her head.

"Martin," she began, her voice steady despite the butterflies dancing in her stomach, "I'm going to visit Mom today. She needs help with some things around the house."

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Martin's fingers paused mid-strum, and he looked up, his eyes meeting hers. There was a moment, brief and fleeting, where Corinne thought she saw a flicker of concern, perhaps even a question, in his gaze. But it passed as quickly as it had appeared, replaced by a warm, reassuring smile.

"Of course, love," he replied, setting his guitar aside. "Is everything okay with your mom? Anything serious?"

"No, nothing serious," Corinne assured him, forcing a smile that felt like it might shatter at any moment. "Just the usual stuff. You know how it is. She's not as young as she used to be, and the garden's become a bit too much for her to handle alone."

Martin nodded, understanding. "Give her my love, and tell her if she needs anything. We're just a phone call away."

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The ease with which he accepted her explanation both relieved and pained Corinne. She wished for nothing more than for this lie to be the truth, for her departure to be for a mundane visit rather than a mission to uncover the secrets that threatened to unravel the fabric of their marriage.

"I will," she replied, swallowing the lump in her throat. "And Martin, about tonight…"

"Yes?" He looked up, his attention entirely on her now.

"I might be late. Mom wants to go through some old photo albums and walk down memory lane. So, don't wait up for me." The words felt heavy, each one a brick in the wall she felt was growing between them.

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Martin stood and walked over to her, enveloping her in a hug that used to feel like coming home but now felt like a reminder of the distance that had crept into their relationship.

"Take your time," he said softly, his voice a melody that no longer played just for her. "Your mom is important, and these moments are precious."

Pulling away, Corinne nodded, her heart aching. "Thank you, Martin. I appreciate it."

As she turned to leave, Martin called out, "Hey, Corinne?" She paused, looking back over her shoulder.

He smiled, that familiar, heartwarming smile that had once melted all her defenses. "Be safe, and call me if you need anything, okay?"

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Corinne managed a nod, her smile more genuine this time, albeit tinged with sadness. "I will. See you later."

Closing the door behind her, Corinne felt the weight of her actions pressing down on her. The simple interaction, a mundane exchange on any other day, now felt loaded with unspoken words and concealed truths. As she made her way to the neighboring house, her heart was heavy with the knowledge that everything might have changed the next time she walked through their door.

***

"This is ridiculous," Corinne muttered to herself, shifting uncomfortably. She had known every resident and their routines like the back of her hand, a small-town familiarity that now favored her. Yet, that knowledge did nothing to soothe the gnawing worry inside her.

"What am I expecting to find?" she pondered, her gaze fixed on the entrance of her building. The idea of catching Martin, her husband, in a lie was both terrifying and necessary. The thought alone made her stomach churn, a testament to how much had changed between them.

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The need to use the bathroom became almost unbearable, a physical manifestation of her inner turmoil. "I should've thought this through," she scolded herself, contemplating a dash to the nearest refuge for relief.

But the universe seemed to conspire against her, for it was then that Sue, her friend, and Martin's former classmate, entered her line of sight. "Sue? Now?" The timing was too coincidental, the implications too damning.

A storm of emotions threatened to overwhelm Corinne as she watched Sue disappear into the building. "Of all the people," she whispered, a sense of betrayal washing over her.

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Memories of laughter and shared secrets with Sue collided with darker thoughts of what her presence implied. Corinne's heart raced with a tumultuous mix of anger, sadness, and an overwhelming sense of determination.

"I need to see this through," she resolved, steeling herself against the flood of emotions.

As she waited, her mind wandered to the earlier days of her marriage with Martin, days filled with love, music, and undivided attention. "He used to look at me like I was his world," Corinne reminisced, the memory bittersweet. But as years passed, Martin's passion for his music seemed to eclipse everything else, including her. Once a symbol of their connection, his guitar had become a wedge between them, his concerts and the quest for sponsors leaving little room for her.

"I miss us," Corinne found herself saying out loud, the empty room offering no comfort.

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The realization of how distant they'd become weighed heavily on her, starkly contrasting the unity they once shared. "Did I push him away, or did he just stop seeing me?" The question hung in the air, unanswered, reflecting the uncertainty and loneliness that had crept into their marriage.

When she could no longer bear the suspense, Corinne made a decision. It was time to confront the situation head-on and face whatever truth lay within her home. With a heavy heart, she abandoned her makeshift observation post, the lattes, and donuts now forgotten relics of her vigil. Her steps quickened as she neared their building, each one echoing her turbulent thoughts.

"What am I going to find? What will I do if my fears are confirmed?" The questions raced through her mind, yet part of her already knew the answers.

As she entered her home, her resolve hardened. She was prepared to face whatever awaited her, ready to confront the truths and lies.

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***

As Corinne stepped through the front door, her heart pounded in her chest, a mix of dread and determination propelling her forward. The house was silent except for the soft guitar strumming from the living room. It was Martin, enveloped in his created melody, seemingly oblivious to the storm about to break.

"Martin," Corinne's voice cut through the tranquility, her tone more of a statement than a question.

Martin looked up, his fingers halting abruptly, the last note hanging in the air, unresolved. His eyes met hers, and she saw it then—the flicker of nervousness that confirmed her worst fears even before he spoke.

"Corinne, there's something I need to tell you," Martin began, his voice tinged with a nervousness that Corinne had never heard from him before. The air charged with anticipation and dread seemed to stand still at that moment.

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The explanation did nothing to quell the storm raging inside Corinne.

"Sue? Here? Like this?" Corinne's voice was a mix of disbelief and anger, her emotions boiling over. The trust and friendship she had placed in Sue now felt like a betrayal, her home violated by this unexpected intrusion.

Corinne's reaction was visceral, a scream tearing from her throat, directed at Sue, the woman she had considered a friend. As Corinne lunged at Sue, her voice was a tempest, fueled by betrayal and shock.

"How could you? In my own home?" Her hands found a bottle of shampoo, and with a swift motion, she aimed a stream at Sue, the liquid blinding her adversary momentarily. Sue, caught off guard but quickly recovering, shielded her eyes with a towel, her voice laced with indignation.

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"It's not what it looks like, Corinne! Let me explain!" But her words were cut short as she retaliated with a deodorant can, spraying wildly in Corinne's direction, the sharp scent slicing through the air.

"You're a traitor, Sue! I trusted you!" Corinne's voice cracked as she grabbed a tube of toothpaste. Squeezing it with all her might, she aimed at Sue's hair, the white paste entangling in the strands. Sue, now with toothpaste-adorned hair, stumbled back, trying to regain her footing.

"Corinne, please, listen to me! It was an emergency!" She reached for the shower gel, uncapping it quickly and flinging its contents toward Corinne, the gel splattering across Corinne's face and arms, its scent mixing with the chaos.

"I don't want to hear it!" Corinne's voice rose above the fray, her heart pounding as she spotted a bottle of conditioner. Grasping it, she squirted a generous amount onto her hand and, with a swift movement, smeared it across Sue's face, blurring her vision and forcing her to retreat.

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Sue, her vision obscured and gasping for air amidst the scents of various bathroom products, tried to clear her eyes. "You're overreacting, Corinne! Martin was just being helpful!"

"Overreacting? In my own bathroom?" Corinne's retort was swift as she grabbed a handful of bath salts, scattering them towards Sue, the grains sticking to her damp skin.

Accusations flying as swiftly as the products they wielded. "You could have gone anywhere, but you chose here!" Corinne accused, her voice a mix of disbelief and anger, as she splashed a cup of water in Sue's direction, hoping to wash away some of the chaos.

"And you choose to believe the worst!" Sue shot back, her voice gaining strength as she found a loofah, flinging it at Corinne in a symbolic gesture of cleansing the air between them, though it did little to quell the storm.

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Their battle raged on, the walls marked with the evidence of their struggle, a chaotic tapestry woven from anger, misunderstanding, and the remnants of their friendship.

Martin, caught between his role as the cause and the peacemaker, finally managed to intervene, his voice a beacon of sanity in the madness. "Stop! This is madness!" he exclaimed, pulling them apart with a strength born of desperation.

"Corin, please, this isn't you. We can sort this out," he pleaded, his eyes searching hers for a glimmer of the woman he once knew.

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The impact sent Martin stumbling back, a hand reflexively coming up to his face where the cool trace of toothpaste mingled with the heat of his skin. The ringing in his ears was not just from the physical slap; it was the tolling of an end, the finality of a bridge burned beyond repair.

With a force that surprised even herself, she expelled Sue from their home, her voice a fierce command that brooked no argument. "Get out!"

Sue, still clad only in her towel, her dignity barely intact, gathered her scattered belongings, thrown after her by Corinne with a finality that marked the end of their friendship. The door slammed shut.

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The aftermath was a bathroom-turned battlefield, marked by the residue of their conflict — streaks of toothpaste on the mirror, blobs of shampoo on the floor, and the lingering scent of deodorant in the air. Corinne stood amidst the ruins, her breathing ragged, her heart torn between retribution and despair.

Martin, silent now, watched her, his guitar forgotten, his eyes reflecting a mixture of regret and sorrow. The space between them, once bridged by love and music, now seemed impossible, filled with the debris of broken trust and shattered expectations.

The clarity that followed was sharp, a realization of the depth of her love for Martin and the fear that had driven her to this point.

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The question lingered, unanswered, as Corinne surveyed the damage—the physical manifestation of her inner turmoil. The confrontation had been about more than Sue's presence; it was the culmination of years of neglected conversations, unspoken fears, and the gradual drifting apart in their marriage.

***

In the quiet aftermath of their clash, Martin had retreated to his studio to rehearse, seeking solace in the familiar embrace of his music. This left Corin alone, her heart, throbbed painfully against her ribcage. The stillness of the night stood in stark contrast to the tempest raging inside her as she made her determined way toward Martin's wardrobe.

Her mind was set on a singular, dark purpose: to dismantle the very foundation of Martin's reputation and career, to make him feel an iota of the pain that was now tearing through her.

The wardrobe stood tall and silent, a sentinel guarding the secrets of the man she once believed she knew entirely. As she slid the doors open, the faint scent of Martin's cologne wafted out, a reminder of happier times that now seemed like distant memories belonging to another lifetime.

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"Come on, there has to be something," Corin muttered to herself, her voice a low whisper in the quiet room.

She was looking for anything—a receipt, a note, something that could serve as a weapon in her quest for revenge. But as she continued her search, her hands encountered nothing but the mundane items of Martin's daily life.

Then, her fingers brushed against a small, rectangular object. Pulling it out, she discovered it was a business card for the countryside farm they used to visit together for groceries on weekends. The farm was a place that once held happy memories for them, a peaceful escape from the city's hustle and bustle.

A plan began to form in Corin's mind, a sinister blueprint for vengeance.

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She imagined the headlines, the whispers of scandal, and the looks of pity and disdain that would be directed at Martin. The thought brought bitter satisfaction.

But as Corin sat there, the business card in her hand, a wave of memories washed over her—the laughter they shared, the quiet moments of connection amidst the rows of fresh produce, the way Martin would look at her with love so pure it made her heartache. For a moment, she hesitated, caught in the grip of what once was.

"Is this who I've become?" she whispered to the shadows, her voice laced with doubt.

The revenge that had seemed so sweet a moment ago now left a bitter taste in her mouth. The realization that her actions could irreparably shatter the remnants of their relationship weighed heavily on her.

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The decision made, Corin placed the business card back in her pocket, a symbol of the drastic measures she was willing to take. The night she stretched on, the silence was a heavy blanket around her as she contemplated the coming actions.

***

Corin's journey to the countryside farm's open fields and sprawling landscapes that usually brought her peace now served as the backdrop to her meticulously plotted scheme of revenge. She parked her car and stepped out.

Approaching the farm, she couldn't help but reminisce about the weekends spent here with Martin, hand in hand, picking out the freshest produce. She was greeted by the familiar sight of the laborers, their faces etched with lines of hard work and the sun.

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The farm owner, a sturdy man with hands as rough as the soil he tended, raised an eyebrow. "Planning a big project?" he asked, a hint of curiosity in his voice.

Corin nodded, offering a tight-lipped smile. "Something like that. I also need a few hands to help me transport and set everything up in the city."

In the heart of the countryside, where the air was thick with the scent of earth and growth, Corin stood with determination etched into her features. The laborers, a group of rugged men accustomed to the toils of farm life, gathered around her, their curiosity piqued by the unusual request from a city-dweller.

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"We've heard some odd jobs in our time, but this..." started Tom, the eldest of the group, his brows knitting together in confusion and concern. "Dousing a concert with fertilizer? It's bizarre, to say the least."

Corin, feeling the weight of their scrutiny, squared her shoulders. "I know it sounds mad, but you don't understand what he did to me," she implored, her voice a mix of desperation and resolve. "The pain he's caused... I need him to feel just a piece of that."

Another laborer, a younger man named Luis with a penchant for adventure, leaned in, intrigued. "I get wanting payback," he said, scratching his stubble. "But why like this? There's gotta be a story here."

Corin sighed, the burden of her story heavy on her tongue. "Martin, my husband, he... I thought he was everything. But then, I found signs of him... with another. In our own home. It shattered everything I believed about us."

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The group fell silent, the tale of betrayal a familiar sting to some.

Jenny, the only female laborer among them, who had been quiet until now, stepped forward. "And you think turning his big night into a mess will even the score?" she asked, her tone not judgmental but genuinely curious.

"It's not just about making a mess," Corin explained, her gaze fierce. "It's about public embarrassment, about showing him and the world that you can't just hurt people and walk away unscathed."

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Corin's hand lingered in the air where her ring once sat. "He was my world," she admitted, a tremor in her voice. "But this ring... it's just a thing. My peace of mind and my self-respect—those are worth more. I need to do this, not just for me, but for any other woman who's felt this invisible, this betrayed."

The laborers exchanged glances, the air filled with unspoken agreement. Tom, with a heavy sigh, stepped forward, extending his hand. "Alright, we're in. But we do this our way—clean, and no one gets hurt. Agreed?"

"Agreed," Corin nodded, relief washing over her as she shook his hand, the deal sealed with a firmness that belied the turmoil inside her.

As they began to load the truck, Luis, with a smirk, turned to Corin. "So that you know, I'm going to need a good story to tell my grandkids. "The Great Fertilizer Heist' sounds about right."

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Despite the gravity of the situation, Corin couldn't help but let out a genuine laugh, the sound mingling with the rustle of leaves and the distant call of farm life.

As they set off towards the city, Corin's mind raced with the enormity of what she was about to do. This was it — the point of no return.

***

The concert hall was buzzing with anticipation of an unforgettable performance. Martin and his band took the stage, their silhouettes illuminated by the soft glow of the spotlight. The crowd erupted into cheers, a sea of faces awash with excitement and admiration.

As the first chords of the opening song filled the air, something unexpected happened.

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As the first signs of the unexpected shower of fertilizer and sawdust descended upon the stage and spilled over into the audience, the concert hall was instantly filled with shocked and dissatisfied exclamations.

"What is this?!" a voice rang out, clear and incredulous, slicing through the initial confusion.

"Is this part of the show? It stinks!" another exclaimed as people began to cover their noses and shield their eyes, trying to make sense of the sudden turn from musical ecstasy to chaos.

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"This is ridiculous! We paid for music, not for this... mess!" a frustrated shout came from the middle of the hall, where a group of fans stood up, their evening's excitement quickly souring into anger.

"Get us out of here! This is unacceptable!" someone else yelled the discomfort of being coated in dust and the overpowering smell of fertilizer driving the initial bewilderment into outright agitation.

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Tucked away in a shadowy corner of the hall, Corin couldn't help but let a sly smile creep across her face as she watched the chaos unfold. "That's right, Martin," she whispered to herself, her voice laced with venomous satisfaction. "This is exactly what you deserve."

Security personnel, taken aback by the sudden turn of events, quickly sprang into action, locking down the venue in an attempt to control the chaos.

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In the midst of the turmoil, Sue, her face etched with concern and indignation, made her way onto the stage. Seizing Martin's microphone with a sense of urgency, she addressed the bewildered crowd.

The crowd fell silent, the tension palpable as all eyes turned to the ring in Sue's hand.

Before the shock could fully settle, one of Corin's hired workers, emboldened by the chaos, shouted from the back of the hall, "That's my ring! She promised it to me for organizing this...fertilizer show."

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In the spotlight's unforgiving glare, Martin's hand trembled slightly as he took the microphone from Sue. The chaos of the concert hall seemed to pause momentarily, the audience's focus narrowing to the drama unfolding on stage.

"I can't believe this," Martin's voice broke the silence, a mix of disbelief and pain coloring his tone. His eyes, filled with a tumult of emotions, locked onto the glittering ring Sue held.

The audience, a sea of faces illuminated by the stage lights, remained silent, captivated by the raw honesty in his voice. Some exchanged glances; others looked on in rapt attention, drawn into the personal revelation amidst the public spectacle.

Martin, his heart on display for all to see, turned to face his band. The members, instruments in hand, watched their leader with a mix of concern and support. "I'm sorry," he addressed them and then the crowd, his voice gaining strength yet still tinged with profound sadness.

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Corin had envisioned this moment countless times, each fantasy a bittersweet tableau of revenge and vindication.

As the security personnel began herding the audience out, their expressions ranging from confusion to outrage, Corin's sense of triumph wilted, overshadowed by the magnitude of the fallout. She had wanted Martin to feel a fraction of her pain, to understand the depth of her hurt.

But the sweeping consequences of her actions, affecting innocent band members and fans alike, weighed heavily on her conscience.

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***

As Corin sat in the cold, impersonal atmosphere of the police station, an officer approached her. The officer, a middle-aged man with a stern face softened by lines of empathy around his eyes, pulled up a chair opposite her.

"Ms. Corin," he began, his voice firm yet not unkind, "we need to understand your side of the story. Why did you do what you did at the concert."

Corin's eyes met his, and for a moment, she saw not an officer of the law but a human being trying to make sense of the chaos she had caused. "I thought... I believed he was betraying me," she said, her voice a fragile whisper, betraying her inner turmoil. "I wanted him to feel some of the pain he put me through."

The officer nodded, jotting down notes. "And you thought ruining his concert and damaging his career would achieve that?" he asked, not in accusation but in an attempt to understand the depth of her hurt and anger.

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"Yes," Corin admitted, a tear trailing down her cheek. "But I didn't think about the others I would hurt. I was just so focused on making him understand." As they spoke, Martin entered the room, his face a mask of controlled emotion. The officer signaled for him to sit. Facing Corin, Martin's voice was heavy with sadness and disbelief.

Corin's gaze dropped to her hands, clasped tightly in her lap. "No," she replied, her voice barely audible. "It made everything worse. I'm sorry, Martin. Truly, I am."

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Martin sighed, a sound that seemed to carry the weight of their shattered relationship. "I wanted us to end on better terms, Corin. Despite everything, I never wanted it to come to this."

The officer observed the exchange, a silent witness to the unraveling of a once-loved bond. "I recommend you both get legal representation," he advised, closing his notebook. "This has gone beyond a simple misunderstanding or marital dispute. There are serious repercussions for your actions, Corin." The room fell silent, the air thick with unsaid words and what-ifs. Martin stood up.

In the silence that followed, Corin realized the full extent of her actions. She had sought justice for perceived wrongs but found only loss and regret.

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