“And the time before that.”
“I know.”
She looked at him.
“You’re always making things up later.”
Chuck leaned back.
“I’m sorry.”
“That isn’t what I said.”
“What do you want me to do?”
“Show up.”
“I can’t tonight.”
Jessica stared.
Then picked up her purse.
“Fine.”
Chuck stood.
“Jess.”
She stopped.
He kissed her forehead.
“Have a drink for me.”
She looked almost sad.
“I’ve been doing things for you for a long time, Chuck.”
He misunderstood.
“Next weekend.”
She shook her head.
Then left.
He worked until after midnight.
Jessica came home sometime after two.
Chuck was asleep.
A week passed.
Then Tuesday evening arrived.
Chuck sat in the darkened home office reconciling a client schedule when his phone vibrated.
Instagram.
A burner account.
No photograph.
No followers.
No posts.
One message.
You should see what happens when you aren’t around, workaholic.
Below it was a private cloud link.
Chuck stared.
His first instinct was spam.
His second was worse.
He opened it.
The video loaded.
Hallway.
Music.
Jessica.
Ryan.
Tyler.
Door.
Smile.
Click.
Black screen.
Chuck watched it once.
Then again.
Then a third time.
He enlarged individual frames.
Not because he wanted pain.
Because his mind worked through verification.
Was the date correct?
Yes.
Was the location Ryan’s house?
Yes.
Was that Jessica?
Yes.
Ryan?
Yes.
Tyler?
Yes.
Could there be an innocent explanation?
Technically.
Chuck spent forty minutes inventing them.
Someone was sick.
They went upstairs to find something.
They were talking privately.
The video deliberately created a false implication.
Chuck wanted to believe any of those explanations.
Then he remembered Jessica’s expression.
Excitement.
Not distress.
Not confusion.
Something alive in her face that Chuck had not seen directed at him in a long time.
That hurt more than the doorway.
At 8:17, the garage door opened.
Jessica came home from yoga.
Chuck remained in darkness.
He heard keys land in the ceramic bowl by the door.
The refrigerator open.
A cupboard close.
Jessica humming.
Ordinary domestic sounds.
They felt obscene.
Ten minutes later, she appeared in the office doorway.
“Chuck?”
He said nothing.
“Why are you sitting in the dark?”
He looked up.
“I saw the video.”
Jessica stopped.
“What video?”
Chuck held up the phone.
“Ryan’s party.”