“Yes?”
I clear my own throat, nerves gathering like stones in my stomach. “I… uh…”
“Spit it out, lady,” he says. Not unkind, just impatient.
I bite my lip. “I need some camera footage. From… here.”
He squints at me, then his whole face changes. He stiffens. “Are you the woman?” His tone sharpens. “Do you know what an accusation like that can do to a man?”
My mouth opens, but he keeps going.
“I’ve seen the tape, and I already gave it to the police. You’d be lucky if they don’t come after you for filing a false report.”
A tight smile pulls at my mouth as realization clicks into place. I clear my throat. “I’m not the woman accusing him. I’m… his wife.”
“Oh,” he says, and something shifts in his expression. I can’t explain it. He won’t look me in the eyes, and a hint of nerves flickers across his face.
“Can I see it then?” I ask quietly.
“Uh…” he stammers. “I mean-”
“I know what’s in it,” I say before he can try to wiggle around the truth.
“Oh.” His shoulders drop a little. He definitely thought I was the oblivious wife who didn’t know a thing.
He studies me for a second. “If you know what’s in it, why do you want to see it?”
I give him another tight smile. “Wouldn’t you?”
He lets out a long, tired sigh, the kind you hear from someone who has seen too much and wants no part of any of it. He steps back into the office and grabs his phone from the desk.
“Give me your AirDrop,” he mutters.
I unlock my phone and hold it out slightly. He scrolls through something, taps a few times, and a notification pops up on my screen:GIDDISH J. would like to share a video.
I accept it.
When it finishes transferring, he clears his throat. “I’m sorry,” he says, voice low.
“Thank you,” I say. Then I turn and walk out.
I don’t stop until I reach my car. I know this isn’t something you watch parked on the street, but I can’t wait. My hands shake as I open the video.
It’s the feed from outside the men’s bathroom.
Patrick steps into frame. He pauses at the doorway, like he’s watching something out of frame. Before I can even breathe, a blonde woman walks straight toward him.
I see it immediately. The height. The hair. The clothes.
I understand why Giddish thought I was her. She looks like me, just… me before pregnancy.
The cameras are high quality. Every movement is clear. They’re talking. I can’t hear anything, but I don’t need audio to understand the energy between them.
Then she reaches for him. She takes his hand and pulls him closer. Nausea swirls in my stomach as I watch her shoulder dip, she’s clearly touching him.
My stomach twists watching Patrick lean in. And then he kisses her. With the same kind of passion he kissed me with yesterday.
My vision blurs. I press my hand to my mouth, fighting the sudden rush of nausea. The story he told me, that she came onto him, that he didn’t want it, the footage tells a different truth.
