Then he tried to recover with anger. "You're sick. You're actually insane." "Alex," I said, still calm, "you're the one sleeping with another man's wife on their anniversary. Let's not talk about who's insane."
But I could hear people talking in the background, probably hotel staff or nearby guests. Sophia hated scenes, and I knew she'd be trying to hide, crying quietly or frozen in shock, while Alex lost his temper. That's the part I didn't need to witness. Knowing it was happening was enough.
He lowered his voice, trying to sound threatening. "You think this changes anything? She's with me." I almost thanked him for the entertainment.
"Great," I said. "Then you can stay with her. Good luck explaining that to your girlfriend." The silence after that one was longer.
He forgot I knew about her, too. I didn't shout. I didn't insult him. I didn't accuse him of anything.
Me staying calm probably annoyed him even more. He finally hung up on me. She didn't text or call me. That said everything I needed to know.
A few hours later, the tracker dot moved again, this time back toward the mainland. She came home earlier than planned. She must have spent the ferry ride rehearsing excuses. When she finally came through the door that night, she looked exhausted.
No makeup, hair a mess, eyes red and swollen. She could barely look me in the eye. "Daniel, please, it wasn't like that." I didn't respond.
She tried again, her voice shaking. "It just happened. I didn't plan anything. I swear." Still nothing from me.
Then she said the classic line every guilty person thinks will fix everything. "It was just a mistake." I finally looked at her. "You were gone for two days."
She didn't answer. I didn't want to hear excuses. I picked up a folder from the table and placed it in front of her. It was the divorce papers.
She broke down, begging me to reconsider, talking about counseling, saying it was all a mistake. I let her talk until she had nothing left to say. When she finally stopped, I said, "Pack your things." She stared at me, shaking.
"Daniel, please." "Pack your things." After she left, things played out on their own. And the two of them, they didn't last even a week after that trip.
Stuff like that never lasts once reality shows up. Meanwhile, I slept better than I had in months. The card said, "Sympathy for your loss." But the truth was simple.
I didn't lose anything. She did. Sophia stayed with her sister for two days after I told her to pack her things. I didn't block her, but I didn't reach out either.