He Took Her to Bed, I Sent Them to Hell

It all started the day I discovered Anthony Rivera's affair. It was just an ordinary Friday.

He came home after his usual research group meeting, but then collapsed from stomach pain. His clothes reeked of barbecue smoke and spices. Anthony had a sensitive stomach and never ate heavily seasoned food.

I contacted his teaching assistant, Nolan Robson, and that was when I learned a new student had joined the group that day. Anthony had taken her out for barbecue, following her suggestion.

"It's nothing serious," I said over the phone. "It's just that your professor has a delicate stomach. Please don't let him eat things like that anymore."

The voice on the other end hummed in acknowledgment, then hesitated. "Mrs. Rivera, actually... Sienna doesn't even meet the qualifications to join the group."

A sickening realization hit me.

Anthony was lying in bed resting. He must have been in considerable pain because his brows were still furrowed. After years of marriage, we knew each other too well. I unlocked his phone easily.

In the group chat, everything looked normal at first glance. Then I saw it.

Anthony: "Next group meeting, you can't fall asleep again."

Sienna: "But it's so boring! How about I just watch you instead, Dr. Rivera? If I'm watching you, I won't get sleepy."

Anthony: "Alright."

Sienna: "'Dr. Rivera' makes you sound so old. From now on, I'll call you Tony, okay?"

Anthony: "Sure, whatever you like."

Sienna: "You're the best!"

I pulled out my phone and cross-referenced the profile picture to confirm that this Sienna Wright was the person I knew. My throat tightened.

Anthony woke as the light dimmed. I handed him a glass of water and placed his phone in front of him, still open to their chat. While he'd been asleep, Sienna had sent more messages.

"Tony, are we going for a barbecue again tomorrow?

"Tony, I don't know how to write my thesis. Can I hire you as a ghostwriter? I'll let you be the second author!"

She was only a senior undergraduate who wasn't even applying to graduate school. By any standard, she had no business being in Anthony's master's-level research group.

"Make her leave," I said. "She doesn't know anything and will only drag down the group's progress. I can pretend this never happened."

We had been together for 20 years. I was trying to preserve his dignity.

Anthony's gaze fell on the glowing screen. He squinted at me.

"Brielle, if I hadn't married you, you'd still be selling flowers on street corners."