Inside, I heard women talking and laughing.
Then Wesley spoke.
“Trust me, Wesley.”
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“No, no! My wife would never wear something like that!”
A woman answered confidently.
“Trust me, Wesley. I know what I’m doing!”
I froze.
Were they seriously discussing another woman’s wardrobe? In my garage? With my missing clothes?
“Really, Wesley?”
I imagined Wesley handing over my favorite blue dress as if it were some kind of romantic gift.
That was the final straw.
I grabbed the handle, pulled the door open, and stepped inside.
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“Really, Wesley? And what exactly would your wife never wear?”
The garage went completely silent.
Three women stared at me.
Wesley spun around, his eyes widening.
“Honey?! What are you doing here?”
“That’s what I’d like to ask you!”
Three women stared at me.
One had a measuring tape around her neck. Another sat behind a sewing machine, while the third held a piece of fabric against a mannequin.
