Instead, it made me uneasy.
One night, I woke up to find Oliver gone. The house was silent. Then I noticed a strip of light under Mellie’s door.
My heart dropped.
I cracked the door open—and froze.
Oliver was sitting on top of her bed, leaning against the headboard. Mellie was asleep beside him, holding his hand.
Fear hit me instantly.
When I confronted him, he explained quietly: she’d had a nightmare and asked him to come. She didn’t want to wake me.
That hurt more than I expected.
Over the next few days, suspicion grew. I hated myself for it, but I couldn’t ignore it. Instead of asking directly, I made a decision I’m still ashamed of—I installed a small camera in her room.
When I watched the footage, the truth unfolded.
Night after night, Mellie would wake up from nightmares, text Oliver, and he would come honte sit beside her—never crossing boundaries, just staying until she calmed down. Sometimes she cried, sometimes she talked, sometimes she just needed someone there.
Then I saw the moment that broke me.
Oliver gently told her he couldn’t keep this secret from me. She begged him not to—afraid she would ruin my happiness.
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