Chapter 2 - There Were Two Tickets for the Morning After
I did not go home.
Our condo was only fifteen minutes away, but I could not stand the idea of sitting in a bedroom filled with photographs of a marriage I no longer understood.
I drove to my sister Maya’s house in Lincoln Park.
She opened the door, saw my face, and said only:
“What happened?”
I handed her my phone.
She read Sofia’s messages.
Then looked at me.
“Tomorrow morning?”
I nodded.
Maya’s anger arrived faster than mine.
“He was taking her away the day after your anniversary?”
“Apparently.”
“While telling you he had board meetings?”
“I don’t know what he was going to tell me.”
We found out thirty minutes later.
Dante finally stopped calling and sent a longer message.
Lena, the Napa trip was supposed to be for a property meeting. Sofia works on the account. I know what it looks like, but please let me explain before you decide our entire marriage is over.
Maya laughed bitterly.
“What it looks like?”
I stared at the ticket.
Two seats.
One hotel confirmation Sofia had included later.
One room.
King bed.
No other executives listed.
I replied:
Did the board need the king bed too?
Dante called immediately.
I answered.
Not because I wanted him.
Because I wanted to hear whether he could lie while I knew the truth.
“Lena.”
“Was Napa business?”
A pause.
“Partly.”
There it was.
“How many times?”
He exhaled.
“Can we please not do this over the phone?”
“How many?”
Another pause.
“Three.”
My fingers tightened.
“Three kisses?”
“No.”
Maya looked at me.
I turned away.
“How long?”
“About four months.”
The room became very quiet.
Four months.
Not one weak evening.
Not a drunken accident.
A season.
Summer dinners.
Late meetings.
My birthday.
My mother’s visit.
Ordinary Saturdays when Dante kissed me goodbye before work.
“What did Sofia mean by tomorrow?”
“I was ending it.”
I almost laughed.
“With a weekend in Napa?”
“I was going to tell her there that it had to stop.”
That was insulting enough to make me finally cry.
Not loudly.
Just tears sliding down while my voice stayed flat.
“You booked a romantic hotel to end an affair.”
“It wasn’t supposed to be romantic.”
“One room, Dante.”
He said nothing.
I continued:
“You told me tonight was a board emergency.”
“I know.”
“You knew I was waiting for you on our anniversary.”
“I know.”
“And you chose to have her in your office anyway.”
His breathing changed.
“Lena, I made terrible choices.”
Plural.
At least he had stopped saying mistake.
Then I asked:
“Does Sofia know you were planning to end it?”
Silence.
That told me enough.
I hung up.
Five minutes later, Sofia sent another screenshot.
A message from Dante that afternoon:
Tomorrow we finally get away from everything. No office. No Lena questions. Just us.
I stared at it.
Maya whispered:
“He wasn’t ending it.”
“No.”
May you like
The affair was no longer the mystery.
The mystery was how many versions of the same man Dante had been selling to both of us.
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