Chapter 3

I stayed in the bathroom for a long time, splashing cold water on my face, my reflection a pale, haunted stranger in the mirror.

Dustin was waiting for me, his face etched with concern. "Are you sure you' re okay? We can go home."

How could he be so good at this? The lies, the performance. A part of me wondered if he even knew he was doing it anymore. If the line between the loving husband and the cheating bastard had blurred so much in his own mind that he couldn' t see it.

The cool night air on the drive home cleared my head. The nausea subsided, replaced by a cold, clear calm.

"I' m feeling better," I said, as he pulled into the garage.

"Good," he said, his hand on my knee. "Because I still have that surprise for you."

"Tomorrow," I said. "Let' s do surprises tomorrow."

He looked disappointed but nodded. "Okay. Tomorrow."

A wicked little idea sparked in my mind. A final, parting shot.

"Actually," I said, turning to him. "I' ve been thinking. You' re right. We need more time together. Why don' t you take tomorrow off? We can spend the whole day together. Here. At home."

He looked surprised. Then a little panicked. A whole day. A whole day he couldn' t sneak away to see Jami.

"I... I don' t know, Eli. I have that big presentation..."

"Reschedule it," I said, my voice sweet. "For me."

He chewed his lip, cornered. "Okay," he said finally, forcing a smile. "For you. Anything."

We went to bed. He fell asleep almost instantly. I waited until his breathing was deep and even, then slipped out of the room.

I went to his office. His work laptop was on his desk. He used the same password for everything. Our anniversary. The irony was thick enough to choke on.

I found what I was looking for in his deleted items folder. He wasn' t as smart as he thought he was.

A video. Jami, again. This time she was in his office, perched on his desk, wearing nothing but his dress shirt.

"Dustin, baby," she cooed, running a hand down her thigh. "When are you going to leave her? She' s so old and boring. I' m so much more fun."

He didn' t reply, but I could hear his low chuckle off-camera.

I closed the laptop, my hands steady. The pain was a distant echo now. All I felt was a profound, bottomless disgust.

I went back to our bedroom. He' d rolled over in his sleep, one arm flung across my side of the bed, searching for me.

"Eli?" he murmured, half-asleep.

"I' m here," I said, my voice a whisper.

He sighed and settled back into sleep.

In the morning, his phone started buzzing at 6 a.m. It buzzed again. And again. A relentless, insistent rhythm.

"Goddammit," he groaned, rolling over and grabbing it from the nightstand. "What the hell does she want now?"

He got out of bed, walking into the adjoining bathroom to take the call. He thought I couldn' t hear. He was wrong.

"What, Jami?" he hissed. "I told you I' m taking the day off... No, you can' t come over... Because Eliana is here, that' s why... Look, just handle it. I' ll call you later."

He came back into the bedroom, looking annoyed. I saw him slip the phone into the pocket of his robe.

"Work?" I asked, feigning sleepiness.

"Yeah," he grunted. "Stupid emergency. I handled it."

He went downstairs. A few minutes later, the smell of coffee and bacon filled the house. He was making breakfast. A grand gesture.

He came up with a tray laden with food. Pancakes, eggs, bacon, fresh-squeezed orange juice. A feast.

"I was thinking," he said, setting the tray on the bed. "You do so much around here. Maybe we should hire a housekeeper. A cook, even. Take some of the pressure off you."

He wanted to replace me. In every way.

"No, thank you," I said. "I like taking care of our home." My home. Not for much longer.

I picked at the food, my appetite gone.

"So," I said, looking at him over my coffee cup. "Are we okay, you and I?"

He looked startled. "Of course, we' re okay. Why would you even ask that?"

"No reason," I said.

He reached across the tray and took my hand. His was warm and strong. It felt like a stranger' s.

"Eliana," he said, his voice thick with sincerity. "I love you. You know that, right? I would never, ever do anything to hurt you. You are my world."

I looked into his eyes, a deep, earnest blue. He was a phenomenal liar. Or maybe he believed it himself.

"I would die before I betrayed you," he said.

I almost laughed.

"Good to know," I said, pulling my hand away. I stood up and walked to the closet. "I' m going to get dressed."

He looked relieved, the conversation over.

As I was pulling on a sweater, I asked, casually, "So, where did you put my birthday gift?"

He froze. "Your... gift?"

"From last week," I said, turning to face him. "You said you had one for me."

He was a deer in the headlights. He had nothing. He' d completely forgotten.