Chapter 1
Cabin permit confirmed. Four people. Ethan had listed me as staying at the resort.
This trip was supposed to be just the two of us—for the first time in our three years of marriage, Ethan and I were able to take an entire week off, just the two of us.
It took me two days to clear my schedule. I canceled Monday’s strategy meeting, rejected urgent projects from my most important clients, and finished all the work ahead of schedule.
On the carpet in the living room, I laid out the things he always forgot to bring: sunscreen, seasickness pills, his favorite dark-roast coffee beans.
In the kitchen, Ethan was stirring a pot of red sauce with a wooden spoon. His gray T-shirt had a speck of flour on it.
"There are still three days." He said through the range hood, "Don't bring your computer this time."
"What about you? Don't change your schedule at short notice."
He smiled. "It's a deal."
He stepped away from the stove and raised his sauce-covered hands. "Honey, can you check your phone for me? The flight confirmation email came an hour ago. I forwarded it to myself, but I haven't checked the terminal yet."
His phone sat on the breakfast bar next to the ceramic salt shaker.
I used my thumb to light up the screen. Four years ago, my fingerprints were entered into his cell phone.
The airline email was still loading when I noticed a message in the notification center that Ethan hadn't crossed out.
It was from Elena, last night.
My thumb paused on the screen.
I clicked on the notification.
It was a small group of four named "Old Friends."
In the group is Ethan Vance. Elena Ward. Marcus Ward. Chloe Bennett.
I'm not in it.
Below Elena's message is Ethan's reply two minutes later:
Ethan: OK, I'll handle it.
I slid up.
Elena sent an attachment, which was the confirmation document for the cabin license. There are four names on the guest list:
Ethan Vance. Elena Ward. Marcus Ward. Chloe Bennett.
The document is marked with use dates: Tuesday through Thursday.
It happened to be the day after we arrived in Maui and the night before our return trip.
I read those dates back and forth twice. If I read them one more time, they would mean something else.
The range hood behind him turned off with a click.
I closed the chat window and returned to the airmail page. At this moment, Ethan walked out of the kitchen carrying toast.
"Have you seen the departure time?" he asked, "Has the deposit been confirmed by the snorkeling shop?"
"Ten forty-five." I put his phone screen down next to the salt shaker, "Gate B12. The store confirmed, Tuesday afternoon."
Ethan leaned over and kissed my temple. "You are a lifesaver. Sorry, I should have contacted that store myself."
We had dinner at a low table.
"Would you like to rent a convertible?" Ethan asked, "We can drive along the coast road and eat shaved ice before checking in."
He reached across the table and intertwined his fingers with mine.
"No one will bother you this time," he said. "It's just you and me."
"It's just us," I said. I spoke very softly, as if I was afraid that if I spoke louder, the words would break.
That night, Ethan fell asleep with a hand on my waist. I gently moved his arm and got out of bed.
Sitting at my desk, I opened the flight confirmation email Ethan had forwarded to me on Thursday. Elena's email address appeared in the CC field, next to his backup email.
Then I found the hotel receipt that was paid with his credit card.
Booked two rooms in total.
One room is for Ethan and me.
The other room was occupied by Elena, Marcus and Chloe.
I saved the cabin permit confirmation document, hotel receipt, and Ethan’s flight email to my personal cloud drive.
Tomorrow night, we are going to Elena's house for dinner.
I closed the computer and went back upstairs.
Ethan reached for me in his sleep without opening his eyes.
I stood by the bed until his hands fell back to the sheets.