I planned to confront him during dinner. If he
didn’t love me anymore, fine. Just tell me the
truth. All I wanted was my fair share.
But as dinner was served, his phone rang. His
expression changed. “Sorry, Sarah, something
came up at work. I have to go.” He grabbed
his jacket and hurried out.
I stared at the food, my appetite gone. Ethan,
was he really taking me for a fool? I was
trying to give him a chance to break up with
me gracefully, and he wouldn’t even give me
that.
I’d heard a girl’s tearful voice on the other
end of the call.
As soon as he left, I went to his study and
opened his laptop. He was usually careful, but
his chat history with a “Tina Yang” had been
meticulously deleted.
So, it wasn’t Tina…
Lately, Ethan couldn’t stop talking about a
new intern named “Tina,” a name he always mentioned with a smile. When I’d asked, he said Tina was a male college graduate.
I sent a friend request to Tina Yang. “I’m from the club. Please accept.”
Thirty minutes later, she accepted.
Her first
post was from half an hour
ago: “Bad cramps, but my boss came to keep
me company (blushing). He’s warming my
tummy with his hands! Best. Boyfriend. Ever!”
The picture showed a man’s hand on a
woman’s stomach, the intimacy undeniable.
Ethan had a scar on his index finger, from a
fight he’d had defending me. I couldn’t
mistake it.
I scrolled down, a masochistic urge driving
- me.
“Couldn’t decide which lipstick to get, so my boss bought them all! Who has the best
boyfriend? Me!”
“Hee hee! Didn’t want takeout, so my boss
cooked for me! So sweet!”
Each post had comments from mutual
friends.
