The Seventh Inning Stretch

The crowd roared as the batter connected, the crack of the bat echoing through the stadium. Marcus barely noticed, his thumb scrolling through his wife's iPhone, the screen glowing against his face in the dusk of the baseball game.

She'd left it behind when she rushed to the restroom—or so she'd said. Three innings had passed since then. The phone had buzzed twice in her purse, demanding attention, and Marcus, foolish and curious, had peeked.

Now he understood why she'd been so distant lately. The encrypted messaging app. The deleted call logs. The photographs of documents that weren't theirs—blueprints for a competitor's new product, confidential emails, meeting transcripts marked EYES ONLY.

Sarah wasn't having an affair. She was a spy.

Not in the romantic, cinematic sense. No exotic locales or poisoned cocktails. This was corporate espionage, the kind that ruined careers and triggered lawsuits. The kind that happened in beige conference rooms and hotel bars, where innocent drinks weren't innocent at all.

The baseball game blurred around him. He remembered their first date, ten years ago at this same stadium. She'd explained the rules while he pretended not to know them, charmed by her enthusiasm. How she'd memorized the secret signals coaches flashed to players. How she'd laughed when he'd called her observant, saying she just noticed things others missed.

She'd been training him to accept her absences, her late nights, her sudden business trips. All those times she'd said, "It's complicated," when he'd asked about her work. He'd thought she was protecting confidential client information. She'd been protecting her cover.

The phone buzzed again. Incoming message: MEETING AT THE CAR IN 5. BRING THE DRIVE.

Marcus stood up, the popcorn forgotten in his lap. Behind home plate, the scoreboard flashed their anniversary date—October 15th—between innings. A promotional giveaway, nothing more.

He began the long walk up the concrete stairs, toward the parking lot where Sarah was waiting. He had to decide: confront her, play along, or simply walk away and disappear into the crowd, leaving her to wonder which of them had been living the double life all along.

In the distance, the baseball game continued, another inning ending as someone made a choice they couldn't unmake.