Chapter 2
The hotel room was quiet.
I lay on the bed, staring up at the ceiling.
That image just kept playing in my head.
Adam was holding Theresa's hand.
She was leaning on his shoulder.
They were out shopping, having fun.
And me? I spent eight days lying in a hospital bed.
I picked up my phone and pulled up my chat with Theresa.
The last message was from two weeks ago.
She wrote: [Been busy lately. Let's catch up another time.]
I replied: [Okay.]
Theresa was my college roommate. We'd been friends for ten years.
I knew her even before I met Adam.
She was the one who introduced us.
Back then, she told me, "He seems like a solid guy. You should give him a shot."
After two years of dating, Adam and I had been married for a year now.
Theresa stood by my side as my bridesmaid at our wedding.
She even cried, saying she couldn't bear to let me go.
I stared at my phone, not knowing who to call.
Should I call Adam? Ask him why he lied to me?
Or maybe Theresa? Ask her when she had been with my husband?
I didn't call anyone.
I was too afraid of what I might hear.
After a while, I got hungry.
I went downstairs, bought some sandwich, and ate it slowly in the hotel lobby.
My phone rang.
It was Adam.
"Honey, are you home yet?" he asked.
I paused for a second. "Yeah."
"Good. I'm catching a flight tonight. Should be back around nine or ten," he said.
"Okay," I replied.
"Did you eat? Do you want me to bring you anything?" he asked.
"No need," I said.
His tone was casual. "Alright, see you tonight."
I hung up the phone.
A flight tonight?
So where was he now?
With Theresa?
I didn't try to figure it out right away.
I was too tired.
Physically and emotionally drained.
I went back to my room, lay down, and just slept. I was too exhausted to think about anything.
By the time I woke up, evening had already settled in.
I unlocked my phone and saw Adam's message: [I'm almost there. What do you want to eat?]
I didn't reply.
After a while, he texted again: [I'm at the entrance to our apartment complex. Can you let me in?]
I still didn't reply.
My phone rang.
"Honey, are you home? Why won't you let me in?" Adam asked.
"I'm not home," I replied.
"Huh? Where are you?" He sounded confused.
"I'm at a hotel," I said.
"A hotel? Why?" he asked.
I was silent for a few seconds.
"I saw you outside the hospital today," I said, my voice flat.
He went quiet.
There was a long, heavy silence.
I continued, "You said you were out of town. But I saw you shopping."
He took a deep breath.
He said, "Honey, let me explain..."
"And Theresa," I cut him off.
"You were holding her hand, out shopping together," I said, my voice steady but cold.
Adam didn't say a word.
I could hear his breathing—quick and uneven. He sounded nervous.
"Adam, what's going on between you and her?" I asked, my voice steady but cold.
"Honey, it's a long story..." he said, his voice trailing off.
"Go ahead, take your time," I said calmly.
He fell silent again.
I waited.
About 30 seconds later, he finally spoke up.
"Let's talk in person. It's too complicated for a phone call," he said.
"I won't see you," I said, my voice cold and final.
"Honey..." he started, his voice pleading.
"I don't want to see you right now," I said, my voice steady but cold.
"Then what do you want?" he asked, his voice tense.
I thought about it for a moment.
"Tell me what's going on between you and Theresa first," I said, my voice steady and cold.
He sighed, "It really is a long story."
"I've got time."
He fell silent again.
I hung up the phone.
I was done listening to his excuses.
If I wanted the truth, I'd find it myself.
I pulled up Theresa's social media.
Her most recent post was from three days ago—a picture showing off her new manicure.
The caption said, [New style. Like it?]
Adam had given it a like.
I kept scrolling.
About a week back, she posted a pic of coffee.
Two cups of coffee and two pieces of cake.
The caption read: [Rare moment of peace.]
In the shot, I could see a hand across from her, wearing a watch.
That watch? I bought it for Adam.
I'd saved up for three months just to get it for his birthday last year.
I stared at that photo for a long time.
I kept scrolling.
Two weeks ago, she posted a pic of two movie tickets.
The caption said: [Second time watching. Still hits different.]
I remembered that movie.
I wanted to see it too. I asked Adam, but he said he was too busy.
Turned out, he wasn't too busy. Just busy with her.
Three weeks back, four weeks back, a month back...
The more I scrolled, the more I found.
A new post every few days.
Even when no one was in the shot, there were always traces—little hints here and there.
An extra fork, a man's jacket, and that hand I knew so well.
Meanwhile, Adam was always telling me he was out of town, working late, or just too busy for anything else.
I put my phone down.
The room was so quiet that I could hear my own heartbeat.
Suddenly, I couldn't help but laugh at myself.
I spent eight days in that hospital bed, waiting for him to show up every single day.
He told me he was busy, and I bought it.
He said he'd be back soon, and I believed that too.
Turns out, he was out there with another woman—shopping, having coffee, catching movies.
And that woman? Theresa. My best friend for ten years.
I sat up, walked into the bathroom, and splashed some water on my face.
I saw myself in the mirror. My face was pale, my eyes red and tired.
Staring at that reflection, I suddenly wanted to ask her, 'Why are you so dumb?'
My phone buzzed again.
It was Adam.
I answered.
"Honey, don't be mad. I'm heading over right now. Let's talk," he said, sounding urgent.
"That's not necessary," I replied, my voice cold and distant.
"Where exactly are you? Just tell me. I'll come find you." He pressed.
"I told you, that's not necessary," I replied, my voice cold.
"Then what do you want?" His voice was getting desperate. "You can't just shut me out like this."
I gave a cold laugh.
I said, "Adam, I was in the hospital for eight days and you didn't come once. Now I don't want to see you for just one night, and you're already losing it?"
He froze, completely speechless.
I hung up the phone.
Then I switched off my phone.
Tonight, I was finally going to get some real sleep.
Everything else could wait till tomorrow.