She looked at him.
That was all I needed.
There was another phone.
I didn’t know where.
But I knew there was one.
For the next two hours, nobody spoke to me about it.
People left.
My parents took the children home with them.
Bram stayed.
Sasha stayed.
Callan stayed.
Eventually, the house became quiet.
At around nine that evening, Callan went upstairs to shower.
I watched him disappear.
Then I remembered his overnight bag.
I found it beside the wardrobe.
I opened it.
Clothes.
Toiletries.
A charger.
Nothing.
Then I noticed the lining.
There was something stiff behind it.
I ran my fingers along the inside.
My heart started beating faster.
I pulled at the fabric.
A black phone slid out.
No case.
No photographs.
No contact names.
Just a black screen.
I turned it on.
There was one message waiting.
From Sasha.
Are you sure she doesn’t know?
The message was dated six days earlier.
My hands went cold.
I opened the conversation.
There were hundreds of messages.
Years of them.
At first, they looked harmless.
Are you coming tonight?
She went upstairs.
He thinks I’m asleep.
Don’t call me from your number.
Then they changed.
I miss you.
I hate going home after seeing you.
One day we’ll stop pretending.
I scrolled further.
Then I saw:
Sasha: What if Bryony finds out?
Callan: She won’t.
Sasha: How do you know?
Callan: She trusts me completely.
I stopped scrolling.
I read it again.
Then again.
I continued.
Sasha: And Bram?
Callan: Bram is easy. He believes whatever you tell him.
I sat down on the edge of the bed.
They weren’t just cheating.
They were discussing us.
Our marriages.
Our families.
Our trust.
Like we were obstacles.
Like we were furniture that could be moved when convenient.
Then I found a message from almost nine years earlier.
Sasha:
I shouldn’t have kissed you.
Callan:
You shouldn’t have stopped.
Nine years.
Nine years of lies.
Christmases.
Birthdays.
Family dinners.
My children’s birthdays.
My wedding anniversary.
Every time I hugged my sister, I was hugging a woman who had been sleeping with my husband.
Then I found something from three months before the garden party.
Callan: When the time comes, we’ll tell them together.
Sasha: And Bryony?
Callan: She’ll eventually understand.
Eventually.
As though my entire marriage was something I would eventually get over.
I kept scrolling.
Then another message appeared.
