I stood in the bathroom doorway, staring.
Grant searched through a drawer, completely unaware of what had been burned into his skin.
“Did you move my gray shorts?” he asked.
“They’re in the laundry room.”
“Right. Thanks.”
I said nothing.
He had no idea the word was there.
A few minutes later, he fell asleep.
I lay beside him, listening to his breathing while the letters on his back seemed to glow in the darkness.
For almost an hour, I tried to come up with an innocent explanation.
Maybe his coworkers had played a prank.
Perhaps he had fallen asleep beside a hotel pool and someone had written it as a joke.
Maybe there really had been a beach near his conference hotel.
But Grant had told me it rained for most of the trip. He had complained about being trapped indoors between meetings.
His suitcase was still beside the bedroom door.
I quietly opened it.
There were no business documents, conference badges, or restaurant receipts from the city where he claimed to have stayed.
Instead, I found a beach wristband, sand inside one shoe, and a receipt for two lounge chairs at a seaside resort.
The receipt was dated two days earlier.
Grant had paid for two chairs, two cocktails, and a couples’ massage.
My hands started to shake.
Then I found a folded note tucked into the side pocket.
It read, “I didn’t find out you had a wife until the third day. I’m sorry. He’s been lying to both of us.”
I sat there for a long time.
At first, I wanted to wake him, throw the note in his face, and end the marriage immediately.
Instead, I thought of something better.
The next morning, after he left for work, I bought a prepaid SIM card.
Using the new number, I sent him one text.
“I’m the woman you lied to. The one you told you didn’t have a wife. Well… did you really think you’d get rid of me that easily?”
A few seconds later, the message changed to Read.
That was only the beginning.
Grant did not respond for ten minutes.
Then my phone buzzed.
“Who is this?”
Despite the nausea twisting my stomach, I smiled.
“You know who this is.”
Three dots appeared, disappeared, then returned.
“Tessa?”
So that was her name.
I had expected a denial or another excuse. Instead, Grant recognized her immediately.
I typed slowly.
“Who else would it be?”
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