“He got an offer in Boston. He took it.”
I nodded.
“Are you in contact?”
“No.”
The answer came without drama.
“He apologized once. I apologized once. That was it.”
“And Daniel?”
She smiled faintly.
“He blocked me.”
I almost laughed.
“I probably deserved that.”
I said nothing.
Vanessa’s smile disappeared.
“I spent a lot of time after the separation believing I had lost everything because you refused to forgive me.”
I watched her carefully.
“Then I realized I had lost things before you even knew what was happening.”
“What do you mean?”
“I lost Adrian the moment I lied to him about being separated. I damaged us the moment I opened the account in secret. I damaged my own sense of who I was every time I told myself a lie was temporary.”
She looked at me.
“You leaving didn’t create the consequences. It just stopped hiding them.”
That was the closest description of the entire year I had heard.
I took a sip of coffee.
“Why did you really go out with Daniel?” I asked.
She looked down.
“I told you. I wanted a reaction.”
“There were easier ways.”
“I know.”
“Why Daniel specifically?”
“Because I knew he bothered you.”
“That’s not flattering.”
“No.”
She took a breath.
“And because part of me wanted to prove I still had options.”
There it was.
Honest and ugly.
“What happened that night after you left?” I asked.
Vanessa’s expression became embarrassed.
“Daniel picked me up near Grove Street. Two other people were supposed to meet us but canceled. We went to a lounge first.”
“Just you two?”
“Yes.”
“Did anything happen?”
“No.”
I believed her, which was ironic considering everything else.
“He asked how you felt about us going out. I told him you didn’t care because we were basically separated.”
“Same story.”
“Yes.”
“He didn’t believe you?”
“At first he did. Then his friend saw one of my posts from our anniversary a few months earlier and made a comment. Daniel asked questions. I got defensive. Then Adrian called.”
She laughed bitterly.
“That was the moment the whole thing collapsed.”
“What did you tell Daniel?”
“That you were trying to ruin my night.”
“And he called me.”
“Yes.”