If he tells you it was only Olivia, ask him about Thursdays.
A cold feeling moved slowly through my body.
For months, Marcus had been coming home late on Thursdays.
Nine o’clock.
Sometimes ten.
He always said there was a recurring project review.
Long meetings.
I had never questioned it.
That’s what happens when you trust someone.
Or maybe that’s what happens when you believe trust means never looking too carefully.
I looked at him.
“Tell me about Thursdays.”
Marcus sat down.
Not casually.
His legs seemed to make the decision before the rest of him did.
“It’s not what you think.”
“What exactly do you think I’m thinking?”
He rubbed his face with both hands.
“I made a mistake.”
My chest tightened.
“With Olivia?”
“Yes.”
“How long?”
“It wasn’t a relationship.”
“How long, Marcus?”
“A few months.”
Then came the explanation.
He had been stressed.
Work had become overwhelming.
Olivia understood what he was going through.
They crossed a boundary.
He regretted it.
He had ended things three weeks earlier.
He finally realized what he could lose.
He was sorry.
For several minutes, it almost sounded believable.
Because it was structured like the truth.
It contained all the expected pieces.
Then my phone buzzed again.
He’s going to tell you he made one mistake.
Don’t believe him.
Below that was an address.
Come alone at 6:00 p.m. if you want the whole truth.
