Which meant he had not sent it.
My stomach twisted.
“Daniel…”
He looked back at Ethan.
Ethan was sweating now.
“Who sent her that message?”
“I don’t know.”
“Wrong answer.”
“I said I don’t know.”
Daniel stepped closer.
“Interesting.”
“What?”
“You knew exactly what I was talking about before she told us what the message said.”
Ethan’s mouth opened.
Nothing came out.
A murmur moved through the room.
I stared at him.
Daniel had caught it too.
Ethan had reacted before there was enough information to react to.
“What is going on?” I whispered.
Daniel lowered the phone.
His eyes met mine.
And something in his face scared me more than anger ever could.
Sadness.
Not betrayal.
Not suspicion.
Sadness.
As though he had been carrying something alone.
As though he had wanted to protect me from it.
As though the moment he had hoped would never arrive had finally come.
I took a step toward him.
“You knew he was going to do this.”
Daniel did not deny it.
The room seemed to tilt.
“You knew?”
“I knew he was going to try something.”
“For how long?”
Daniel looked down briefly.
“Three days.”
A sharp breath escaped me.
“You knew for three days?”
“I didn’t know exactly what he was planning.”
“But you knew it involved me.”
“Yes.”
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
“Because I needed him to believe we didn’t know.”
“We?”
The word came out before I could stop it.
Daniel’s face changed again.
Barely.
But enough.
We.
Not I.
My skin prickled.
“Who is we?”
Nobody spoke.
Ethan suddenly moved.
Not toward Daniel.
Toward the back door.
Daniel stepped sideways and blocked him.
“Where are you going?”
“I’m done with this.”
“No.”
“You can’t keep me here.”
“No one’s keeping you anywhere.”
“Move.”
Daniel did not.
“You wanted everyone to hear your story.”
Ethan’s eyes flicked toward the phone.
Daniel noticed.
“So now everyone gets to hear mine.”
Ethan lunged for the phone.
The movement was so sudden that several people shouted.
Daniel pulled it away.
Ethan stopped himself before actually grabbing him.
For one suspended second, the two men stood inches apart.
Daniel’s calm finally cracked.
Not much.
Just enough for his voice to become colder.
“Touch me again.”
Ethan froze.
Daniel held his gaze.
“I dare you.”
No one in the room recognized that version of my husband.
Maybe Daniel did not either.
Ethan slowly lowered his hand.
Daniel backed away.
Then he turned toward me.
“This started before last night.”
My chest tightened.
“How long before?”
He looked at Ethan.
“Ask him.”
“I’m asking you.”
Daniel hesitated.
That hesitation told me the answer would hurt.
“Almost six months.”
The kitchen disappeared around me.
Six months.
I thought of birthdays.
Anniversaries.
Normal mornings.
Trips to the grocery store.
Daniel kissing me before work.
Family dinners where Ethan had sat across from us laughing.
Six months.
“What started?”
Daniel lifted the phone slightly.
“Messages.”
“What messages?”
“To me.”
“From Ethan?”
“No.”
Ethan interrupted.
“Daniel.”