His First Love's Slow Poison

Staring at that line of text, I froze.

My fingers trembled as I unlocked his phone.

The messaging app showed no saved name for the number, no history—just that one line. Nothing else.

My heart started racing. For a moment, I had no idea what to do.

That's when Grayson came back into the room, fresh from his shower. He saw me staring at his phone and laughed softly, pulling me into his arms.

"What are you zoning out for? Did you forget my passcode? Let me unlock it for you."

"I already got in." I turned the screen toward him. "What does this text mean?"

Grayson glanced at it, his expression perfectly natural.

"Spam," he said, sounding almost annoyed, pinching my cheek. "Are you dense? You're going to stare at junk like this for ages?"

He took the phone from me and blocked the number without hesitation, then set it down on the nightstand like it was nothing. I couldn't help but ask.

"Same as that other message last time?"

He bent down to make the bed, answering offhandedly, "Yeah, same as last time."

My chest tightened.

Knowing him, he should have blocked that number the moment the first message came in. If he'd remembered it all this time, why had he only deleted it instead of blocking it right away?

Had he actually wanted to keep a line open to that number from the very start?

The more I thought about it, the colder my hands and feet got, and something heavy settled on my chest.

Grayson didn't notice a thing. As usual, he tucked me in and turned off the light.

I wasn't the least bit sleepy.

He didn't seem to be either.

I lay there quietly for a long time, listening to his breathing—steady, awake, never drifting into sleep.

After a while, he eased himself up without a sound. Before he left the room, he tucked the blanket around me and pressed the lightest kiss to my forehead.

The moment I heard the bathroom door open, some impulse made me sit straight up and grab the tablet. Grayson's account was logged in on it, synced in real time.

I stared at the screen. One second. Two. Three.

The display flickered, and a new message appeared.

There, glowing coldly on the screen, was his reply to that person.

[Okay.]

In that instant, it was like someone had dumped a bucket of ice water over my head.

I never imagined something like this could happen to me.

I pressed a cold hand to my stomach.

Why did life have to be so dramatic?

The sound of the door closing outside jolted me. I shoved the tablet back down like I'd been caught doing something wrong.

Grayson came in, and the first thing he did, same as always, was check that my blanket was tucked in properly.

My throat tightened, my nose stung, and I kept my eyes shut, not making a sound.

Even with him treating me this gently—for the first time in my life, I thought about divorce.