Chapter 1
My best friend, Emily Summers, sent me a photo. She was at the beach, and my husband, Daniel Reed, was holding her. Both of them were smiling sweetly.
Emily typed: [Sarah, I'm sorry. I couldn't help myself.]
I took a deep breath and saved the photo. Then, without blurring or cropping it, I posted it on Instagram.
I typed: [Congrats to Emily for finally taking my place. You two don't have to sneak around anymore. Everyone, this guy's officially ditched, and the decision is final.]
Then I powered off my phone, pulled out the SIM card, and crashed into bed.
The next morning, when I turned my phone back on, it started to ring nonstop.
More than 180 missed calls popped up, and my inbox was blowing up with over 99 unread messages.
*****
My phone buzzed.
I was folding laundry when I noticed a lipstick stain on Daniel's shirt collar. I rubbed it with my thumb, but it wouldn't come off.
The message was from Emily.
I tapped it open.
It was a photo.
By the sea, at dusk, the light shone on the two of them.
Daniel had his arm around Emily's waist, and she was leaning against his shoulder. Both of them were smiling.
There was a line of text underneath. [Sarah, I'm sorry. I couldn't help myself.]
I stared at the screen for about ten seconds.
My fingers stayed steady, but my heart raced.
Emily was my college roommate. After graduation, we stayed in the same city. We'd get together for holidays. She always saw me as a sister. I helped her move three times. When she got sick, I'd stay with her at the hospital all night.
We'd known each other for six years.
I tapped on the photo and zoomed in.
Daniel was wearing that light blue short-sleeve shirt, the one he said he'd packed for his business trip last week.
He told me he was going to Grandon, an inland city.
The background was the ocean.
I saved the photo to my gallery.
Then, without blurring or cropping it, I posted it on Instagram.
I typed: [Congrats to Emily for finally taking my place. You two don't have to sneak around anymore. Everyone, this guy's officially ditched, and the decision is final.]
Then I hit send.
Then I powered off my phone, pulled out the SIM card, and put it on the bedside table.
I lay down, pulled the covers over me, and closed my eyes.
That photo kept replaying in my mind.
He was holding her waist with his left hand.
On our wedding day, he used that same left hand to lead me into the hotel.
I rolled over and pressed my face into the pillow.
I didn't cry.
But my chest was knotted up, like I'd swallowed a whole chunk of ice, and it wouldn't melt.
When my alarm went off, daylight was already streaming in.
I sat up, my head feeling a bit foggy.
I slid the SIM card back in and turned my phone on.
The screen lit up.
Messages started flooding in.
One, two, ten, fifty...
[Missed calls: 183
[Text messages: 99+]
It took over ten seconds for all my WhatsApp messages to finish loading.
I leaned back against the headboard, phone in hand, watching the red numbers keep popping up on the screen.
Daniel had called 67 times.
Emily had called 41 times.
Daniel's mother, Callie Reed, had called 23 times.
The rest were from my coworkers, friends, and a few people whose names I recognized but whose faces I couldn't remember.
I opened Daniel's messages. The first one was from 10:03 last night.
Daniel: [What did you post? Take it down, now.]
At 10:07 PM, Daniel: [Sarah, are you deleting it or not?]
At 10:15 PM, Daniel: [Pick up the phone.]
At 10:40 PM, Daniel: [What do you want?]
At 11:20 PM, Daniel: [I'll talk to you when I get back.]
At 1:00 AM, Daniel: [Sarah, you've gone way too far.]
The last one was at 6:12 AM.
Daniel: [I'm downstairs. Open the door.]
I didn't move.
I swiped away Daniel's messages and opened Emily's voice message.
The first one was seven seconds long.
She was crying. [Are you crazy? You've ruined me.]
After I listened, my lips twitched.
Ruined her?
She didn't care about ruining me when she sent me that photo.
The second voice message was twelve seconds long.
Emily: [I'm begging you. Please delete that post. Let's talk. I'll do whatever you want.]
The third one was five seconds.
Emily: [Sarah, why aren't you answering your phone?]
The fourth one was sent at 2 AM, and her voice was hoarse.
Emily: [You're not doing yourself any favors with this.]
I played every voice message, one after another.
There were nineteen in total.
She was first crying, then begging, then frantic, and then hating. Her attitude changed four times.
The doorbell rang.
Once, twice, and by the third time, it turned into banging on the door.
"Sarah, open the door," Daniel called.
I heard Daniel's voice through the door.
I glanced at the time. It was 6:40 AM.
The doorbell rang again.
"I said open the door. Are you even listening?" Daniel shouted.
I got out of bed, slipped on my slippers, and walked to the door.
I didn't open it.
I peeked through the peephole.
Daniel was standing outside. His hair was messy; his shirt was wrinkled. He was holding a suitcase.
He looked pissed.
He banged on the door again.
"If you don't open up, I'm getting a locksmith," Daniel called out.
I opened the door.
He froze when he saw me.
He definitely wasn't expecting me to be this chill.
He stormed in, dropped his suitcase on the floor, and slammed the door behind him.
"Delete that post," Daniel snapped.
I walked back to the living room, sat down, and poured myself a glass of water.
"I said delete it." Daniel followed me, his voice rising.
I took a sip and put the glass down.
"You willingly took that photo with Emily in your arms. Why should I cover for you?" I shot back.