I put my fork down. Do what? Argue. I'm not arguing. I'm asking where my wife was for an hour on our 10th anniversary.
She finally looked at me. I had something to take care of. What? She hesitated. It's complicated.
I studied her face. Her hands were shaking slightly. I noticed something else. There was a faint smell of men's cologne on her jacket, not mine. I had worn the same cologne for years, and I knew exactly how it smelled.
This was different. I didn't say anything about it. Not yet. Instead, I leaned back. Fine.
She looked relieved. Thank you. I picked up my fork again. But I wasn't hungry anymore. I had spent 2 months planning that evening.
Wanda had spent the first hour of it somewhere she refused to explain. And sitting across from her, I had a feeling that the truth was going to be much worse than being late. I didn't bring up the cologne again during dinner. I wanted to, but something told me to keep quiet. Wanda was already nervous and I wanted to see how she behaved without me pushing her.
She barely ate. Every few minutes she picked up her phone, looked at the screen, and turned it face down. I noticed. She noticed me noticing. You okay?
She asked. I'm fine. You've barely said anything. I'm eating. She gave me a weak smile.
You're still upset that I'm late. I don't like being lied to. She looked down at her plate. I didn't lie. You said something came up.
Something did. Then tell me what it was. She shook her head. Not here. I leaned back.
Fine. The waiter came over and asked if we wanted dessert. Wanda immediately said no. I told him no as well. The dinner I had imagined for months was already finished before it had really started.
We paid and left. During the drive home, Wanda barely spoke. I didn't ask questions. I had decided I would wait until we were home. When we got inside, Wanda took off her jacket and went straight upstairs.
I'm going to shower. Okay. She stopped on the stairs. You're not coming in a minute. She looked at me for a second.
Then she went upstairs. I stayed in the living room. I kept thinking about the smell on her jacket, the nervousness, the missing hour, the phone. Something had happened. I just didn't know what.
About half an hour later, I went upstairs. Wanda was already in bed. Her phone was on the nightstand. She was facing the wall. I changed clothes and got into bed for several minutes.
I listened to her breathing. Then I noticed her phone light up. She moved slightly but didn't wake. I looked at the screen. A message notification appeared.
The name was Jack. I knew that name. Jack had been Wanda's boyfriend before we met. She had told me they broke up years before our relationship started. I looked at Wanda.
She was still asleep. I reached for the phone. I knew her passcode. After 10 years together, there were very few things about each other we didn't know. I unlocked it.