The Fertility App That Logged His Affair

The third night of Camerons business trip, I was sprawled on the couch, my face slick with a charcoal mask, mindlessly scrolling through my phone.

The screen suddenly flashed to life, pulling up a notification:

[Aura Cycle: Your Intimate Moment has been successfully logged!]

Followed by a smaller line of text:

[Time logged: 10:15 PM. Congratulationsyouve had sex!]

Had sex?

I immediately tapped the app open. I had insisted Cameron download this period-tracking software and share his account with mine.

The latest entry was clearly synchronized with the login IP from his phone.

I instantly video-called him.

It rang for a long time before he finally answered. His side was pitch black, lit only by a faint, weak glow.

Babe, what is it? I just finished a meetingIm exhausted. Im just about to head back to the hotel, his tired voice came through the receiver.

I stared at the "10:15 PM" entry on the app, forcing a light laugh.

Nothing, really. Just missed you. You should hurry back and rest.

I hung up, then quietly opened a different app.

I booked the earliest flight to his business city.

1.

The flight was at four in the morning.

I sat in the terminal, silently studying the "Intimate Moment" log on my phone.

The IP address showed Raleigh.

Exactly where Cameron was for this trip.

We had been married for three years, college sweethearts all the way to the altar. In everyones eyes, he was the model husband: attentive, family-focused, and successful.

He had even been the one to suggest we share the Aura Cycle app.

He said he wanted to understand my cycle better, to take better care of me, and to help us with our fertility planning.

Now, the thought felt like a sickening, cosmic joke.

Three hours later, at the Raleigh-Durham airport.

I hailed a cab and gave the name of the hotel Cameron had mentioned.

The Grand Raleigh Regency.

The driver glanced at me through the rearview mirror. Looking for someone, sweetheart? Bit early for a social call.

I smiled faintly and said nothing.

At the hotel, I didn't rush inside.

I settled onto a sofa in the lobby, pulled out my phone, and called Cameron again.

This time, a voice call.

He picked up after a few rings, his voice thick and nasal, as if hed just woken up.

Kendall? Why are you calling again? Its not even light out.

I had a nightmare, a terrible one where something happened to you. It woke me up. I carefully laced my voice with tears and vulnerability.

Silly girl, Im fine. Im safe and sound. He immediately adopted his usual soft, comforting tone.

Im just worried. Youre alone in a strange hotel, and it makes me anxious. What room number are you in? I want to look up the floor plan, just to feel a bit more secure.

My nails dug deeply into my palm.

There was a distinct, short silence on the other end.

Kendall, stop overthinking this. Im in 1808. The security is great. Just go back to sleep, okay, babe?

1808 I repeated softly. Okay. You go back to sleep too, honey.

Hanging up, the smile on my face was ice-cold.

I stood and walked toward the reception desk.

Excuse me, I need to find someone. Could you tell me what room Mr. Cameron Foster is staying in?

The front desk agent gave me a practiced, corporate smile. I apologize, maam, but for guest privacy, we cant disclose that information.

I had expected this.

I pulled up my phone's lock screenour wedding photoand handed it over.

Im his wife. We had a huge fight last night, and he turned off his phone. I rushed here from home, Im genuinely worried about him.

I timed my eyes to well up, injecting my voice with exhaustion and desperate plea.

The agent looked at the photo, then back at me, her expression softening with sympathy.

She hesitated, then leaned in, lowering her voice.

Maam, Mr. Foster is definitely here, but hes not in 1808. Hes in 2201.

My heart plummeted into the deepest, darkest well.

2.

Thank you.

I offered a shallow thanks and headed for the elevator.

Twenty-second floor.

The long hallway was padded with thick carpet, absorbing all sound.

I stood outside room 2201. I didnt even need to press my ear to the door.

A low, familiar, overly-flirtatious female giggle leaked out.

So familiar.

I pulled out my phone, not to knock, but to open a text message to Cameron.

Honey, Im here in Raleigh. Im downstairs in the lobby.

The message dropped into the void.

I smiled, a sharp, bitter twist of my lips.

I waited approximately five minutes, guessing he had seen the message and was currently scrambling to concoct a strategy with whoever was inside.

I sent another text.

I brought those Portuguese custard tarts you love from that bakery. Im waiting for you in the lobby. Hurry down!

This time, the call came instantly.

Kendall! Are you insane?! Who told you to come here? Go straight home now!

His voice was no longer sleepy and tender but tight with frantic, barely suppressed rage.

Why cant I come? I asked softly, my tone innocent and wounded. I missed you.

I told you I was in meetings! Youre going to mess up my work schedule! he snapped, exasperated.

Meetings? Its barely seven in the morning. What kind of meeting? Or should I say, are you conducting a bedside meeting?

The silence on the other end was absolute.

Followed by a ragged, sharp intake of breath.

Kendall, stop being irrational. I

Cameron, I cut him off. Ten minutes. Ill be waiting for you in the lobby. You come down alone.

I hung up before he could respond.

I didn't return to the lobby. Instead, I walked to the fire exit at the end of the hall.

Through the narrow gap in the door, I had a clear view of 2201.

Seven minutes later, the door cracked open.

Cameron, wearing a loose terrycloth robe, peered cautiously up and down the hallway, then quickly slipped out.

He hurried away, tying his robe belt as he walked, his face a mask of undisguised panic and irritation.

After he left, the door didn't immediately close.

A slender arm reached out and snatched up a newspaper that had been left on the floor.

The bracelet on that wrist was one I knew intimately.

It was the one I had given my cousin, Jenna Wells, for her birthday last year.

3.

Jenna Wells.

My first cousin. My aunts daughter.

She had told me she was home, taking care of our sick grandmother, and she often sent me photos of Grandma to ease my mind.

I stared at the closed door, feeling the blood drain completely from my body.

It was her.

I didn't immediately charge toward the room, nor did I go to the lobby to confront Cameron.

I turned, walked down the stairs, and left the hotel.

I found a window seat at a small coffee shop directly across the street, giving me a clear view of the hotels main entrance.

I slowly stirred my coffee, watching Cameron pace frantically in the hotel lobby, checking his phone and making calls that I wasn't answering.

About half an hour later, he must have realized I wasn't there. His face was a thundercloud as he marched back toward the elevators.

Another thirty minutes passed. Cameron and Jenna walked out of the hotel together.

Cameron had changed into a suit, but his tie was crooked.

Jenna was wearing a lovely summer dress, her makeup perfectly done, and she was tucked intimately into his arm. They laughed easily, looking every bit the happy, newly-in-love couple.

In the sunlight, the necklace around her throat caught the light.

It was the one Cameron had given me for our anniversary last month. Id told him the style was too flashy for me, and hed promised to return it for a refund.

Apparently, he hadn't returned it. He had gifted it to a more "suitable" recipient.

I took out my phone, aimed it at their retreating, intimate backs, and pressed the shutter.

Then, I dialed Jennas number.

She picked up quickly, her voice sickly sweet.

Kendall? Whats up, cuz? Calling so early.

Jenna, I said, my voice soft. I just had a dream about you, so I called to check in. How are you and Grandma doing?

I saw her body visibly stiffen. The hand wrapped around Camerons arm dropped away.

Cameron stopped, looking at her with confusion.

Oh fine! Were great! Grandmas having a good day. I was just about to help her into the garden to get some sun. Her voice was strained and unnatural.

Is that so? Thats wonderful. I paused, then switched gears. By the way, Jenna, I thought I heard my husband, Camerons, voice. Hes supposed to be on a business trip in Raleigh. Why would he be there with you?

My voice was quiet, but it was clear enough to carry.

Through the coffee shop window, I watched Jennas face drain of all color.

Cameron snatched the phone from her hand and yelled into the mouthpiece, Kendall! What the hell do you want!

I dont want anything, I said, taking a slow sip of my coffee.

I just wanted to tell you I loved the Intimate Moment you logged last night. I hope you two have a reason to Applaud for Love every single night.

I hung up, shutting their horrified, shocked faces out of my small phone screen.

I packaged up the photo from my camera roll, along with the screenshot of the Intimate Moment log, and sent them to my friend, Grant, a private investigator.

The accompanying note read: [Find every hotel stay, all shared expenses, and all financial transfers between these two, starting one year ago. I need everything.]

With that done, I booked a flight home.

The war had just begun.

4.

When I returned home, Cameron and Jenna still weren't back.

They were probably still in Raleigh, frantically strategizing their "explanation."

I walked into our master bedroom.

Everything was exactly as I had left it: cozy and tidy.

On the nightstand, our wedding photo sat in its silver frame.

I looked at his face in the picturea face smiling with false devotionand felt nothing but nausea.

I pulled open the closet. His clothes hung intimately next to mine.

With a cold, emotionless detachment, I packed every single one of his suits, shirts, shoes, and ties into large suitcases.

I called the deep-cleaning and sanitation service.

I need all bedding, curtains, and carpets replaced. Use the strongest possible disinfectant and scrub the entire house, especially the master bedroom.

That evening, Cameron finally arrived.

The moment he opened the door, he froze.

The custom leather shoes he loved were missing from the entryway.

He walked barefoot into the living room, his face darkening as he saw the half-empty closet and the bare sink in the master bath.

I was sitting on the living room sofa, calmly filing my nails.

Kendall, what is the meaning of this? He stood over me, demanding an answer.

No meaning, I said, blowing the dust off my nail file. I just thought the house was a little dirty, so I had it cleaned.

Where is my stuff?

I threw it out.

You! He was shaking with fury. How dare you throw away my things!

Cameron, I looked up, meeting his eyes, and spoke deliberately, word by word. Everything in this house was purchased by me. I can throw out whatever I want.

When we married, my parents paid for this house in full, and the deed is solely in my name. The renovations, furniture, and appliances were all paid for with my pre-marital funds.

He was essentially Net-Worth-Zero coming into this marriage.

His face cycled through red, white, and then a sickly green.

Kendall, listen to me, he instantly deflated, trying to reach for my hand. Its not what you think with Jenna, it was her who

Stop. I pulled my hand back, leaning into the sofa cushion. I have zero interest in your pathetic excuses. Cameron, Im only asking you one question: Are you divorcing me, or not?

He froze.

He hadnt expected the directness.

What about all these years we spent together?

Dont talk to me about feeling, I scoffed. Didnt you use all your feelings to Applaud for Love with Jenna?

I He was choked into silence.

Cameron, Im giving you two options. I held up two fingers. First, you walk away with nothingnet-worth-zeroand we get a peaceful, quiet divorce. This stays between us.

Second, we meet in court. At that point, I think your parents, my aunt, and your entire company will be very interested in the evidence of your marital infidelity, especially with my first cousin.

His pupils constricted instantly.

You wouldnt dare!

Watch me. I held his gaze, utterly fearless.

We held the stare, the air thick with antagonism.

Finally, he collapsed, sinking onto the sofa opposite me, defeated.

Kendall, cant you just give me one more chance? He lowered his head, a hint of plea in his voice.

A chance? I laughed as if I'd heard the funniest joke in the world. Cameron, when you and Jenna were repeatedly using our shared app to log your intimate moments, why didnt you think about giving me a chance?

He fell silent completely.

I stood up, walked over to him, and tossed a pre-prepared divorce agreement onto the coffee table.

Sign it. Be at the courthouse tomorrow morning at nine.

I didn't look at him again, turning and locking myself in the bedroom.

I left him alone in the ravaged living room, staring at the divorce papers and the home that no longer belonged to him.

5.

The next morning, I arrived at the courthouse doors at eight-thirty.

Cameron hadnt shown up yet.

I wasnt worried, leaning against my car and scrolling through my phone.

Grant, my private investigator, had been efficient and already sent the first batch of data: three months of hotel stays between Cameron and Jenna.

Raleigh, our hometown, even during our holiday visit to the suburbstheyd managed to sneak away for rooms right under our noses.

My stomach churned as I looked at the endless list of hotel names and times.

At eight fifty-five, Camerons car finally pulled up, late.

He emerged, looking haggard, his eyes ringed with exhaustion.

He wasn't alone.

My mother was with him.

Mom marched straight toward me, her face contorted in anger, and raised her hand as if to strike me.

I smoothly stepped back, avoiding the blow.

Kendall! Have you completely lost your mind?! Why are you divorcing Cameron?!

I looked at my mother, a sheet of ice forming in my chest. Cameron had spent years manipulating her, charming her into treating him better than a biological son.

Mom, this is between him and me. Please stay out of it.

Stay out of it? Im your mother! How can I stay out of it? Cameron is such a good man! Where will you find a husband like him? Youre delusional! she yelled, pointing a finger at my nose.

Cameron stepped forward at the perfect moment, gently taking my mothers arm, his face a perfect mask of humble victimhood and understanding.

Auntie, please dont blame Kendall. Its my fault. I messed up and made her angry.

My mother instantly melted. Oh, Cameron, dont say that. It has to be this hard-headed girl being difficult! Don't worry, Ill take care of this!

She turned back to me, her voice hardening. Im telling you, Kendall, you are not getting divorced today! If you walk through those doors, Ill make a scene right here!

I looked at this perfect show of mother-in-law devotion and almost laughed.

Mom, are you absolutely sure you want to take his side?

Of course Im sure!

Fine. I nodded, pulling up the video I had secretly recorded outside the hotel in Raleigh.

In the video, Cameron and Jenna walked out, arms linked, smiling radiantly.

My mother's expression froze instantly.

What when was this? Who is that woman? Her voice began to tremble.

Mom, I looked at her, saying each word clearly. That woman is Jenna. Your niece. Your sister's daughter.

My mother looked like she had been hit by lightning. She staggered backward a step, caught only by Camerons quick arm.

She looked at Cameron, then at me, total disbelief etched on her face.

No, it cant be Cameron, tell me its not true!

Camerons face had turned as white as paper.

He opened his mouth, but not a single word emerged.

Mom, do you still want to take his side? I asked, my voice flat and cold.

My mothers lips quivered. The look in her eyes for Cameron shifted from compassion to deep, gut-wrenching betrayal and fury.

She violently shook off his arm, rushed forward, and delivered a harsh, echoing slap across his face.

You asshole!