I stood up and walked to the kitchen. Caleb and Priya were still at the table, the two of them comparing the guest list against the notification service while Grace sat on the counter eating an apple. I told them what I had found and asked what they thought. Grace's immediate response was that Nora deserved truthful information if I had a reasonable basis to believe her husband was involved. Priya agreed but warned me against assuming a photograph established what was happening in somebody else's marriage.
"Tell her what Lauren told you," Priya said. "Nothing more. Don't speculate, and don't pressure her to answer."
Caleb looked at me. "Are you doing it because you want Lauren to hurt?"
The question stung because I couldn't honestly say I wanted Lauren to feel nothing. I had imagined her arriving at the venue in her dress and seeing the empty chairs; I had imagined Alex discovering that he had won a night and cost her an entire future. Those thoughts had passed through my mind whether or not I was proud of them. But I didn't want to injure an innocent stranger simply to complete the scene in my head.
"I don't want her to find out six months from now that other people knew," I said. "If Nora and Alex are separated, she can tell me that and I can apologize. But if they aren't, she should have the chance to decide what she wants to do with the information."
"Then keep it short," Caleb said.
I went back to the guest room and typed carefully. "Hello, Nora, my name is Ethan Reed; you don't know me, and I'm sorry to contact you with something painful. I was supposed to marry Lauren Ellis tomorrow. Tonight Lauren told me she was going to spend the night with Alex Nolan, whom she described as her ex. I don't know the state of your relationship with Alex and don't want to make assumptions; if this is relevant to you, I'm willing to send you the messages confirming what she told me. I won't contact you again unless you wish to respond."
I reread the message four times. Then I sent it and locked the phone. There was nothing more I could responsibly do unless she answered. I went to the bathroom, washed my face, and stared at a reflection that looked exhausted despite the fact that I still had not cried. My hands were steady, but I had started feeling hollow in a place between my ribs that no amount of water seemed able to fill.
When I returned to the bedroom, a reply was waiting. "Ethan, my husband has told me he is spending tonight at a work dinner in Milwaukee. We are not separated. We live together. Please send the messages."