Who Was This From?

Emily's POV

The clock on the wall read 7:42 p.m. It took me two hours to leave the diner today; the smell of fries, coffee, and sweat was still in my hair.

"Go home, Emily," called Maria from behind the counter. "You've been here since morning. You'll burn out."

"One more table," I smiled weakly. "Then I'm out."

The truth was that I was not going home. Instead, I was headed to Cole's. My fiancé. My soon-to-be husband in eight months—if everything goes according to our plans.

The thought had come to me between lunch break bites. I would cook him dinner. Surprise him. We hadn't spoken in days, and I felt guilty. One job had led to the other, and he'd been distant lately. Tired. Busy. The same excuse that was familiar to me.

When I arrived at his apartment, it was 9:06 p.m. The corridor smelled like Chinese takeout and orange juice. The bag of groceries was balanced on my hip. My heart was full of excitement.

He hadn't responded to either of my texts, but that was to be expected. He must have fallen asleep after work.

I still had the spare key and I got in.

The lights inside the room were on. His jacket was hanging on the chair. Shoes by the door. The usual.

"Cole?" I whispered softly, placing the bag on the counter.

There was no answer.

I began to unbox the groceries, pulling out the fresh pasta, the tomatoes, and the garlic. I wanted to be sure that he was well-fed when he stepped out of his bedroom. To see him happy and surprised to see me.

Then, halfway through the boiling water, I heard something.

A sound.

At first, it was faint. Then clearer.

A moan.

A man's moan.

And another voice. A familiar one. Cole's.

My body was frozen in place. I watched as bubbles formed and hissed over in the pot.

No, no, no—it had better not be what I was thinking.

I turned off the stove and stood there. It was no longer one noise. It was a rhythm. Gasps. A grunt. The deep tone of a male voice was familiar to me in other ways.

My pulse was hammering so loudly that I thought they'd be able to hear it.

Perhaps I was mistaken. Perhaps he was observing—

"No," I murmured. That sound was too real.

My legs began moving before I could stop them. The hallway seemed to be challenging me to walk further.

The bedroom door was slightly ajar.

I pushed it open. And my world stopped.

Cole was there, naked on the sheets with someone else.

But it wasn't some stranger either. Beneath him was Caleb, his "college friend," the one who had always hugged way too tightly, the one whom he had introduced to me as his best friend.

"Cole," I gasped, my voice breaking.

They froze. Cole turned to me; his face went pale, and his mouth dropped open. Caleb reached for his clothes.

"Emily," Cole began with a shaky voice.

I couldn't talk. Couldn't move. My breathing was scattered and jerky.

Three years. Three f***ing years of being with him and this is what I get?

"Emily, I—"

I laughed. It was a broken laugh, almost hysterical. "Not what it looks like?" I repeated. "Are you serious right now?"

He reached out to grab the sheet to cover himself up. But it got me angrier. The sheet was the one that I had bought last month with my money. The color that I had chosen was the one that reminded him of the beach that he loved.

"You told me," I said, "you were too tired. You said you were just…tired."

Cole's eyes were wide with guilt, fear, confusion—and every other feeling except regret. "It just happened," he stuttered. "I didn't—"

"Don't," I snapped, interrupting him. "Don't you dare."

Caleb muttered something—an apology perhaps—but I didn't even glance his way. I couldn't.

I took a step backward, then another. My guts twisted. I felt the need to scream, to throw something but my body was too tired to do anything.

He reached out like I'd allowed him to touch me. "Emily, please," he began. "I was going to tell you—"

"When?" My voice broke. "Before or after the wedding?"

He said nothing.

"Yeah, that's what I thought," I said.

I turned to leave. My hand was already on the door when he spoke again.

"Emily, I'm sorry. I didn't want to hurt you."

I froze. My jaw clenched tightly enough that it actually hurt. "You didn't want to hurt me," I repeated slowly, "so you slept with him for what?"

He winced. Caleb sat on the edge of the mattress with his head down, quiet.

For an instant, no one moved. The air was thick; it was choking.

"You know what's ridiculous?" I said, shuddering. "I had thirteen-hours of work today. I was going to surprise you. I got all the food for dinner. You didn't even respond to a text."

He attempted to get close to me again. I moved backward. "Don't," I warned.

He stopped.

"Was it worth it?" I asked. "All the lies? The late nights? Making me think I wasn't doing enough?"

His mouth opened to answer, but I didn't give him the chance. "Don't say anything. You already said enough."

I took off my ring and threw it to the floor then exited before my knees buckled. The groceries still sat on the counter untouched.

The door slammed shut behind me, loudly enough to overpower the calling of his voice as he said my name.

I managed to get to the parking lot before my body failed me. My hands shook so violently that I struggled to hold on to the keys. I sat behind the wheel with my eyes glued to the reflection in the rearview mirror.

My mascara was smudged. My eyes had hollows. I no longer recognized myself.

Then my phone buzzed. I unlocked it and saw a message from Cole.

Cole: Please don't tell anyone. You don't understand.

I gazed at it in dumbfounded fury. The audacity to say something like that to me.

Then another buzz. A new message from an unknown number.

Unknown: If you think that is the only secret that Cole is hiding from you, then you are wrong.

I froze. Who was this from?

My heart sank all over again.

The world outside the windshield became a blur as my phone buzzed again, the same number flashing with another message:

Unknown: Check the folder on your drive. "April." Do it before he deletes it.

The screen went dark.