t was a peaceful afternoon. I had been on a trail ride through the mountains, just enjoying some time with nature.
The moment felt serene, so I snapped a quick picture of myself with the horse and sent it to my husband, not thinking much of it.
It was supposed to be an innocent shot—just me, the horse, and the wide-open landscape.
Later that evening, I received a message from him that shook me.
“What are the initials on the saddle?”
Confused, I zoomed in on the photo and saw something I hadn’t noticed earlier. Etched into the leather of the saddle, right where I was sitting, were two small initials: “A.M.”
My heart sank. My ex-boyfriend’s initials.
It had to be a coincidence, I thought. But my husband didn’t see it that way. He had already taken the image to someone who could analyze it and confirm what he feared.
