A smile curves my lips as I tuck the phone back in my bag and pull out my own. I send Aubrey a quick message with a little winky face to let her know phase one of our plan has been set in motion. After Aubrey and I found Jack’s burner phone two nights ago, we spent the next few hours orchestrating our next steps. She confirmed with her ex at the police department that Jack has been sending me the threatening messages from the anonymous number. That’s all it took to convince me that I had to do something—that my husband couldn’t be trusted.
By the time Jack returns, his face is pale and drawn. He’s holding his phone in his hand—he hardly ever sets it down—so I know he saw my message.
“Everything okay?” I look up at him. “You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”
“Ugh—yeah. Just... a work thing came up.” He sits, setting his phone face down on the table.
“Oh, do you need to leave? We can raincheck if you need to.”
“No—no, it’s fine.” He says he’s fine, but I can see that he’s distracted. A thrill of anticipation rises in me knowing I’ve finally turned the tables on him. Taking back my power from a marriage that almost ruined me may be a process, but it’s a fun one and it feels so good.
“I’m sorry I spilled on you.” I offer. Jack just shakes his head,waving off my apology.
The waiter returns then with our tuna tartar and we place our order for entrees. After enjoying a few bites of the tartar, I stand from the table and tell him I’m going to use the restroom. I leave the rooftop and move into the noisy main dining room. Just as I reach the restrooms, I pause, realizing I left my bag at the table with Jack. If he suspects that I’m the one who sent the anonymous text message, he may dig through my bag and find the burner phone I used to send it. I turn, heading back in the direction of the table, but then I pause at the doors that lead out to the rooftop, watching as Jack shakes out a capsule from a small pill bottle and then cracks it open and shakes a fine powder into my drink.
I blink once, twice, because I can’t believe my eyes. Did he really just try to drug me? Without thinking, I push the heavy door open and stomp back to the table, crossing my arms when I reach it. “What the fuck was that?”
“Hey, baby—” he glances up at me.
“Don’they babyme—what did you just put in my drink?”
“What are you talking about?” He looks up at me with kind, puppy dog eyes. I want to slap the unassuming look off his face.
“I saw you put something in my drink—”
His gaze turns dark and stormy. “You must be seeing things.”
“Bullshit.” I push his shoulder, then yank the cloth napkin off his lap. A small prescription bottle of pills falls to the floor at his feet. He moves to grab them but I beat him to it. “Ambien?” I read aloud. “Really?”
“I was worried.” He spits it out. “If you’d just take care of yourself—”
I clamp my lips closed, not believing what’s right in front ofme. What’salwaysbeen right in front of me. “How can I trust anything you say?”
He growls, gripping my wrist and pulling me closer to him. “Please don’t make a scene.”
“Easy for you to say—you’re not the one beingdrugged.”
“It’s not like that. I was worried you weren’t sleeping,” he insists.
“Then you should have come home. You should have been there for me!”
He shakes his head. “You’re right‚ I’m sorry.” He feigns contrition. “Your dad’s just been breathing down my neck lately, and I wanted to make sure you were getting a good night’s sleep when I wasn’t there.”
“Where did you even get this prescription?” I ask, angrily shaking a handful of pills into my palm and then dumping them all into his flute of champagne.
“Your dad’s personal physician.”
“Fucking perfect. I should have figured he was in on it.”
“He wasn’t in on anything, El—”
“I don’t believe you. I don’t believe either one of you.”
“What makes you say that?” He tips his head to the side.
“Nothing. Drink up, Jack. Go on, finish your glass.”
“Stop it.” He rolls his eyes.
