Chapter 2 - The Husband's Receipts
At 12:15 AM, a new notification slid across my lock screen.
It wasn't an Instagram comment. It was a direct message on Facebook, a platform I rarely checked, from a name that made my heart stop entirely.
David Ward.
Tessa’s husband.
They had been married for two years. Brandon had always dismissed David as a boring, middle-management guy who Tessa settled for because she wanted a house in the suburbs.
I opened the message.
David Ward: Claire. I just saw the Instagram tag. My buddy was at the club and texted me. I thought they were just drunk idiots tonight. But I just dug through Tessa’s synced iPad while she’s still out.
David Ward: I am so sorry.
David Ward: It wasn't just tonight.
Beneath his message were four image attachments.
I clicked the first one.
It was a screenshot of a text thread between Tessa and a number saved as "B." The date was from three months ago—the exact week Brandon had gone to a "dealership conference" in Atlanta.
B: Room 412. Door’s unlocked.
Tessa: Coming up. Make sure you don't smell like Claire's vanilla perfume this time.
My stomach bottomed out. The nausea was sudden and violent.
I clicked the second attachment. A digital receipt from a boutique hotel downtown, dated four weeks ago. Paid for by a credit card ending in 4419. Brandon’s card.
The third attachment was a text from yesterday.
Tessa: Tomorrow is the bachelor party. Are we doing the "surprise" run-in?
B: Yeah. Mason knows the drill. He's making sure everyone’s phones are away. I need one last real night before I'm locked down.
May you like
Mason knows the drill.
The betrayal suddenly expanded, bleeding out from Brandon and staining his entire circle. Mason hadn't just watched it happen. He had orchestrated it. He had texted me Yo, don’t freak out, it’s just jokes while standing guard.
