Chapter 2
Claire had the reunion set up in three days. She put out a post in the class group chat, saying we hadn't seen each other in ages, and that she'd booked a private room at a restaurant.
Jason was eating breakfast when he saw the message. He looked up from his phone and asked, "Are you going?"
I answered, "If you're going, I'll go."
He didn't think twice, said, "Sure, I'll go."
But I knew exactly what was running through his mind. He was already figuring out how to drag Alice along.
Alice wasn't one of our college classmates but Jason's high school friend. By rights, she shouldn't be at this reunion.
Yet lately, Jason didn't care anymore. He'd brought Alice to company parties, friends' weddings, and the corner supermarket downstairs from our place.
He had been pushing my boundaries. Or maybe, he had stopped caring about them entirely.
Two days before the party, I handled three things.
First, I checked our joint bank account, in which only 40,000 dollars was left. A month ago, it was still 80,000 dollars.
I scanned through the transactions to see where the missing 40,000 dollars went. It was transferred six times, all to the same person: Alice. No remarks, not a single explanation.
I printed out two copies of the bank statement. One went to Claire, and the other got locked in my office desk drawer.
Second, I made a trip to the Register of Deeds. When we got married, Jason insisted the house was in both our names. But in reality, only Jason's name appeared in the records.
My name wasn't printed on the purchase contract or the property deed. From beginning to end, I was never anywhere in those documents.
I stood at the counter, staring at that paperwork for a long time.
The clerk asked, "Anything else you want to check, ma'am?"
"No, that's all. Thank you," I answered. Then I stepped outside and paused at the entrance.
The sun was beating down hard.
I sent Claire a message: [My name's not on the Real Estate Ownership Certificate. He lied for three years.]
Claire messaged me back: [Hang onto the evidence.]
Third thing. The night before the party, I checked Jason's phone after he fell asleep. This time I didn't wait for pop-up messages. I took his phone and scrolled through it.
I sifted through his chat with Alice; the most recent message was from that afternoon.
Alice: [Can I come to the party tomorrow?]
Jason: [Of course. What's there to be afraid of?]
Alice: [Your wife will be there, right?]
Jason sent a voice note. I put on my headphones and listened.
He said, "She'll do her thing, and you'll do yours. If she tries anything, I'll call her out right there."
When I finished, I set the phone back beside his pillow, lay down, and closed my eyes. However, I didn't get any sleep.
At 3 A.M., I sent Claire a final confirmation: [Tomorrow, make sure you sit on my left in the private room. Get your phone ready to record everything.]
Claire instantly replied: [No problem.]
That night, my mind was racing.
I remembered our wedding day and what Jason had said. He had told me, "You're the only one for me. Ever." Everyone applauded. My mom shed tears.
Three years have passed since then. It turned out "the only one for me" meant I was his first victim.
In the morning, I put my makeup on.
Jason was by the hallway changing shoes; he glanced my way. "Did you do your makeup today?"
"Yeah, haven't seen my classmates in forever," I answered.
He didn't say anything else, grabbed his keys, and headed out.
I stood in the hallway mirror, taking in my reflection. My eyeshadow, lipstick, and earrings were not about looking good. That was my armor.
By the time I got to the restaurant, a dozen classmates were already there.
Claire sat on my left and gave me a nod in greeting.
Jason walked in next, Alice following behind him. She was in a red dress, long hair down, heels clicking.
As she walked past, Alice shot me a brief look. She was sizing me up, taunting, and maybe there was a little bit of smugness in her eyes.
I smiled at her. She froze for a second, then smiled back.
Everyone took their seats.
We went through a few rounds of drinks.
Jason was getting drunk fast. Alice sat beside him, fussed over him, picked his food, wiped his mouth, and refilled his glass. She did those things right in front of our 20 classmates and me.
People whispered to each other. Some glanced at Alice, and some looked at me.
I picked up a bite, munching slowly.
Jason stood up from his seat. He grabbed his wine glass and stepped up to Alice.
The room quieted instantly.
He bent, slipped one arm around Alice's waist, the other cupped her face, and kissed her. One second. Ten seconds. Thirty seconds. A full minute.
Not a soul said a word.
I could feel Claire nudge my hand under the table. I stayed still.
Two minutes passed. Across the table, Samuel set down his utensils, his face tight with anger.
Three minutes passed. Jason finally let go. He turned, looking right at me, waiting for my reaction.
I knew exactly what he was waiting for. He wanted tears, drama, and broken glasses. He also expected me to storm up and slap Alice across the face.
In that case, he'd say, "See? That's what she's like. Always hysterical and unreasonable."
He'd been waiting three years for that moment.
I picked up my glass of wine, took a slow sip, set the glass down, and stood up. "Suit yourself. Have fun. He doesn't matter to me anymore," I said.
Then, I grabbed my purse and walked out and didn't look back. The silence behind me felt like a wall.
During that three-minute kiss, Jason thought he had all the power, but he had no clue. The whole time, he'd been acting out my script.