But of all the things I could have expected to find in the binder, this is a thousand times worse.
It's all here.Everything.
Photos of the dress and shoes Maya bought with my card. Our location history, reduced to data, laid out page after page—not just New York, but every trip, every itinerary, every hotel where we stayed for hours or days. A trail tracing my downfall.
Pictures of me and Maya at the Miami awards ceremony. Pictures I’ve never seen before. We’re not touching, but close enough.
I was so careful.So damn careful not to be seen with her in front of the cameras.
And there's more... Photos of me entering and leaving Maya's building late at night. Screenshots of our texts—me telling her I was on my way, asking her to wait for me at her apartment. Pictures she sent me. I deleted everything the moment I saw it, and yet here it all is...
Credit card statements. Every meal, the dress, the shoes, multiple repeated purchases of condoms and—oh God—every single lube I ever bought.
But it's even worse.No. No. Please, God, no.
And then… the Plan B receipt.
The flowers. The chocolates.
The birthday gift that meant nothing on its own, but which, laid out among all the evidence, tells a different story.
I stop looking, shut my eyes, and brace my weight against the table. "Who... gave this to you?"
Shame washes over me. Fear grips me in a way I've never felt before. None of this was ever supposed to touch us.
To touch Ceci.
She stays silent, but I can feel her eyes on my back.
"Mark," she says at last, voice steady. "But don't you dare think about reporting him or anything like that. He has copies of everything in there, and I can't control what he might do with them if you threaten him."
I spin toward her. "He's your friend—you know I wouldn't report him. Even though I'd love to smash his face right now. He shouldn't have shown you this."
Ceci tilts her head, studying me.
"No, Colin. I don't even know what you're capable of anymore. In fact, you've just seen proof that maybe I never knew you at all." She lets out a humorless laugh. "You think Mark put this together? No, Colin—this little souvenir of your love affair was my doing. I gave him access to your phone. All he had to do was follow the trail and collect the evidence for me."
“It was not a love affair. I already told you. It was nothing. It meant nothing.”
My voice comes out louder, rougher than I intend. I can’t let her turn this into something it’s not.
“It is, Colin.”
She looks me straight in the eyes. “Or do you really think I didn’t know you were in San Jose with her—and not just for work?”
She jerks her chin toward the console table. “You should look all the way through.”
My hands are shaking as I turn the next page.
There we are at the San Jose airport. Maya’s hand resting on my chest as she thanks me for getting her bag. At the convention, she’s always too close.
A restaurant shot, her fingers looped around my arm. The elevator picture. The doorway to her room, both of us stepping inside. Then the next morning… me leaving alone, in the exact same clothes, rumpled, tie dangling from my hand like an admission of guilt. Even a picture of us walking out of JFK this afternoon.
The kiss Maya stole, frozen in pixels. Every single frame marked with a timestamp.
Cold climbs from my stomach, crawling up my chest.I can't think.
How didn't I see?
