"Gotta work late tonight," he told his wife for the fourth time in as many weeks, parking his car in the motel lot as he hung up the phone. Sooner or later he knew he'd have to put an end to it, but not before tonight.
Half an hour later, she lay on the bed while he took a shower. She asked herself why she was doing it, wasting her time on a married man. Intuition told her he didn't want it to last much longer either, the lust had worn thin.
His phone beeped and she reached for it. A text from his wife. She considered revealing herself in a return text, just for kicks. He's a jerk and I'm no better, she thought, but I'm not going to ruin his marriage. She decided at that moment, though, that tonight would be her last night with him. His phone still in hand, she stood up in front of the motel room's large mirror and snapped off a few selfies – just a little something he could remember her by.
It was after midnight when he pulled into his garage. Curling up in bed next to his wife, he felt ridiculous. Looking at her sleeping peacefully, he decided that his little fling was over – no more lies or motel rooms.
The next morning went as most of his mornings did, and he felt a sense of relief over breakfast. His workday wasn't much different from most others except that he couldn't reach his wife in the afternoon. She usually picked up or at least got right back to him.
He returned home to a dark, empty house. "Hello," he called out, wondering where his wife could be. "Hello!" He knew he hadn't left his laptop on the dining room table, but there it sat open with a blank screen. He moved the mouse to refresh the screen and there she stood, naked, his recent lover with a cell phone in hand. Panic ensued and at first he thought she must've somehow sent the photo to his wife and he wondered why on earth she'd have done such a thing? But then he noticed the dropbox interface surrounding the photo and all at once he knew how it had gone down – she'd taken the picture with his phone without knowing that it would automatically sync to a dropbox folder shared by his wife. The date and time were right there as well, indisputable evidence of a dalliance. Busted, he slumped into a chair and closed the photo and found another selfie behind it waiting for him: his wife in front of their bedroom mirror with a very large cashier's check and her middle finger extended.