When I stepped off and walked out through the exit gate, the tenant who'd been renting the place I owned in Charleston finally replied.
"Ms. Thomas, we moved out almost six months ago. You and your husband came to take back the keys that day, remember?"
"He said the two of you might use it now and then for short stays, so you wouldn't be re-renting it."
I'd bought that apartment for William's mother in the first place.
Lucy got sick, and the trip from the countryside into the city was too much for her, so I'd simply bought a place close in.
Later, when she took a turn for the worse, she was transferred to New York, to the hospital that's under my father's name.
The apartment sat empty after that.
I handed the keys to William and let him keep the rent as spending money.
Now and then, he'd transfer the rent back to me.
The last transfer was ten days ago.
"My wife was so envious back then. She said your husband really loved you, that he'd even twist the cap off your water bottle for you."
After that message came a video the tenant had sent.
It was meant to be a keepsake clip, but it had caught William and the woman beside him in the frame.
In the video,
William was down on one knee, rubbing the ankle of the woman in front of him.
One of them looking up, the other looking down,
and then they smiled at each other.
This was not the man I knew.
The William I knew would never have been there at all.
He'd be stretched out on the couch, giving me a look.
"You can handle going on your own, can't you?"
That sour ache welled up in my chest again, bubbling, pressed and rolled over and over by a needle, painful but not fatal.
I saved the video and sent it to my best friend.
"Tina Abbott, help me sell the apartment, whatever price you can get."
I had no use for that place, and I wasn't about to keep his lover housed in it.
Tina fired back a string of exclamation points,
said she'd unload it as fast as she could and make sure I didn't lose out.
Then she sent me a few divorce lawyers.
Only at the end did she say:
"Freda. You're finally awake."
I should have caught on long ago.
The tenant had texted me a goodbye message half a year ago.
But waking up now wasn't too late, either.
My fingers moved, and I went back to that post.
Blogger Immy had posted an update.
"We went to the restaurant we always used to go to when we dated. He still remembered my favorite dish."
After reading that update, I lifted my head and walked into the restaurant, straight toward the two of them.
I sat down at a spot by the window.
Through the half screen in front of me, I could see William and the woman across from him.
"Immy, has it been okay where you've been living these past six months?"
William picked up a piece of shrimp scampi and set it in the woman's bowl.
Immy nodded, looking a little shy.
"I'll move out once I find a job. Otherwise it wouldn't look good if your wife found out, it'd hurt things between the two of you."
I couldn't help holding my breath.
"It's fine," William said carelessly. "I don't feel anything for her anymore."
It came down on me like a hammer to the head,
hard enough to leave me dizzy.
"Meeting Freda was an accident to begin with. She's pretty, her family's got money, but she's got high standards and she's hard to please."
At that, Immy laughed, bright and open, showing her teeth.
"So what you're saying is, I'm easy to please?"
Those hands of William's, the ones that always stayed spotless when he ate with me, were slick with shrimp oil now.
He dropped the shrimp meat into Immy's bowl.
"You're not like her. Maybe a first love really is something different."
I was calmer than I'd imagined.
I didn't even shed a single tear.
By rights, I should have rushed over, grabbed William, and slapped him across the face.
Six months ago, on a rainy night, I fell and started bleeding,
and I drove myself to the hospital, alone.
It wasn't until I woke up in the hospital bed that I called him on his business trip.
I cried and told him we'd lost the baby,
