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We got careless. Didn’t even bother to close the curtains all the way.
“Tristan ...” I point to a handwritten letter placed above the mess. On it sits a diamond ring.
Tristan steps over the photos, kneels down, and picks up the letter.
I read over his shoulder.
Dear husband,
When we married, you promised to be by my side, through the ups and downs. You broke this promise the moment our son went missing.
You promised to share your dreams, your passions, your innermost thoughts and feelings with me, always and forever. You broke this promise the moment you began writing.
You promised to be faithful. You broke this promise the moment you agreed to meet your ex-wife in secrecy.
I knew about the affair almost immediately. However, I was certain it would be temporary, a coping mechanism to deal with the loss of our son. I could have forgiven that.
However, as time went on and we grew farther apart, it became apparent that you had abandoned us. Not only me—but our son. You stopped looking for him, stopped asking for updates, stopped speaking his name. Just like that, you accepted our son’s disappearance and erased him from your life—yourlife. James and I were so easily replaced by another woman.
That, I cannot forgive.
I won’t.
Tristan, I made one promise to you on our wedding day—one only. I promised to love you until my dying breath.
You should know that I kept this promise.
Your wife,
Nina
The letter slips from Tristan’s hands, slowly floating through the air and landing gently on the floor.
Kept—as inpast tense.
My heart is roaring in my chest.
I look at Tristan. He has gone ghostly pale.
He looks at me, his eyes wild, brimming with tears. Then he spins on his heel and darts down the hall.
“Tristan!” I yell, chasing after him.
He swings open the garage door. Nina’s BMW is parked next to his Audi. She is not gone on her trip ... she is home.
“Shit.” He spins around and sprints through the house.
I can hardly keep up.
“Nina!” He’s screaming. “Nina, Nina!”
We take the stairs two at a time.
“Nina!”
Tristan bursts into the master bedroom, screams her name again and again, frantically scanning the room. Then he jogs into the bathroom.
I follow and barrel into him, where he has frozen in place, staring at the bathtub.
