Chapter 1
I bought the tickets, but James switched the passenger to her.
Two first-class tickets from Beijing to Paris. I spent three months saving up.
It was all there in black and white on the airline app.
Operator: James.
Change: Emily to Sophia.
His phone was still charging by the pillow.
The screen lit up.
A notification popped up.
The contact was saved as a heart emoji.
The message read: "Did you change the tickets?"
I stared at those words.
Then I looked at his suitcase.
His suitcase was already packed.
There were two toiletry bags inside.
One blue, one pink.
The pink one was brand new.
The tag was still attached.
A sticky note was tucked under the tag.
The handwriting wasn't his.
It was a woman's handwriting.
The letters were rounded, with a little heart drawn next to them.
It said: "Thank you, honey."
*****
The handwriting on the sticky note was rounded and curvy.
It wasn't mine.
My handwriting is narrow and upright.
The other handwriting was soft and playful, with a little heart added after every period.
Honey.
She called him 'honey'.
I put the sticky note back where I found it.
James was in the shower, the sound of water roaring behind the door.
I sat on the edge of the bed.
I held my phone in my hand.
I opened the airline app and looked over the ticket change record again.
Time of change: yesterday at 2:17 PM.
At 2 PM yesterday, I was in a monthly meeting at work.
He was at home, deleting my name from the passenger list.
And put Sophia's name in instead.
Sophia Miller. That name.
I knew exactly who she was.
She was his ex from college. They were together for two years.
Before we got married, he reassured me, "That's ancient history. You don't have to worry."
My mom even asked him about her.
He thumped his chest and promised, "Mrs. Grant, Emily is the only woman I'll ever love."
I bought those two tickets with my year-end bonus.
They were 13,000 dollars each—26,000 dollars for both.
I spent three months saving up.
In those three months, I didn't buy a single new outfit.
I packed my own lunch every day, never ordered takeout.
I rode the bus instead of taking a taxi.
For his birthday, I got him a scarf—40 dollars.
I didn't even celebrate my own birthday.
Because I had to save every penny just to buy those tickets.
It was for our third wedding anniversary. First-class tickets to Paris for seven days.
I wanted to surprise him.
I sent him the trip details that night.
He glanced at it and smiled.
James pulled me into his arms and said, "You're the best decision I've ever made."
"You're the best decision I've ever made."
That night, he held me close as we slept.
He held me so tightly.
It felt real.
I believed him.
The water stopped running.
He stepped out of the bathroom.
His hair was still damp.
He caught sight of me sitting on the edge of the bed and gave me a small smile.
James said, "You're still awake?"
I replied, "Just waiting for you."
James said, "Try to get some sleep tomorrow. We have to get up early for our flight the day after."
The flight's the day after tomorrow.
He said it like it was nothing.
As if the names on those tickets were still his and mine.
"Okay," I said.
He lay down, pulling the covers over himself.
He reached over and turned off the light.
I settled in beside him.
I closed my eyes, trying to shut out everything.
But sleep never came.
When his breathing finally steadied, I quietly picked up my phone.
I picked up my phone.
I opened his food delivery app.
Our accounts were linked to the same phone number.
I scrolled through his food delivery history for the past three months.
Forty-one orders.
Twenty-nine of them were delivered to a place that wasn't our home.
It was a neighborhood I'd never been to.
Greenfield Residences, Building 7, Unit 2, Room 1802.
Greenfield Residences.
That name rang a bell.
Last year, Mrs. Carter came to Beijing and said she just wanted to "check out some houses."
She took me to see a new development.
It was right next to Greenfield Residences.
I remember thinking it was strange how well she knew the neighborhood.
She just smiled and said, "A friend recommended it."
'A friend.' I couldn't help but scoff at that.
I stared at the delivery records.
Twenty-nine orders.
Breakfast, lunch, afternoon coffee.
One of the notes said, "Less ice, add oats. Thanks."
I never put oats in my coffee.
I never put oats in anything.
He knew that.
That wasn't for me.
I closed the food delivery app.
Then I opened the map app on my phone.
I searched for Greenfield Residences, Building 7.
It was just a six-minute walk from the development Mrs. Carter had shown me.
I set my phone down.
I stared up at the ceiling.
James rolled over beside me.
He mumbled something, like he was talking in his sleep.
I couldn't make out what he said.
I turned my head to look at him.
He was sound asleep.
Just like every other night.
His phone was next to his pillow.
The screen was dark.
But I knew that WeChat notification was still sitting in the notification bar.
"Did you change the tickets?"
The contact was saved as a heart emoji.
The message was sent at 5:43 PM.
I got home at 6 PM sharp.
She contacted him seventeen minutes before I did.
Maybe it was more than just seventeen minutes.
Maybe for the past three years, she was always the one to text him first.
Or maybe they never stopped at all.