It was a warm, quiet afternoon, the kind that makes you pause and soak in the moment. I was out in the field, leaning against the truck with the breeze in my hair. Wanting to share the scene, I snapped a quick picture of myself by the truck and sent it to my husband. Nothing special—just a casual moment.

His reply came almost instantly: “Who’s that in the reflection?”

Confused, I zoomed into the truck’s rear window. My stomach dropped. There was a faint figure—a man, his hat casting a shadow over his face. My breath caught as the hat’s shape struck a familiar chord. It looked just like my ex’s—a detail impossible to ignore.

“I’m sure it’s just a trick of the light,” I texted back, but my husband wasn’t convinced. “That doesn’t look like a tree. It looks like him,” he replied. The doubt in his words mirrored the growing unease in my chest.

I was alone when I took that photo—or was I? The reflection’s stance and hat gnawed at me, raising questions I couldn’t answer. My husband’s trust wavered as he processed what looked like a shadow of my past lurking in the present.

What began as an innocent snapshot had become a haunting mystery, leaving a lasting strain between us.