Eliana wanted to laugh, but found herself grimacing instead. She looked away when her throat tightened. “Why is it still so painful?” She whispered, her head thumping back against the headrest as her eyes fell shut, replaying the scene in her mind. The way he’d stared at Bea so intently before threading his hands into her hair. The way she’d sunk her claws into his shirt and dragged him inside. The passion. The urgency.
It was something they’d lacked in their marriage for years. Maybe from the very beginning. And it was something she suddenly, viscerally, realized she desired. It only took witnessing her husband freely offer to another woman what should’ve belonged to her for Eliana to realize that notonly did she cravemoreout of a marriage, but that Jesse had been more than capable of providing it all along, and yet, he’d made a conscious choice to leave her wanting.
“I’ve known for so long,” she continued. “I knew what would happen tonight, and I’m planning to walk away. But still . . .” she sniffed. “It hurts.”
“A betrayal is a betrayal,” Milo answered. “Knowing that you're about to take a punch doesn’t make the fist land lighter. But this time, Eliana, you’re not alone.”
They sat in the car for a long while, with Milo’s words ringing true between them. Not touching, not talking, simply processing the finality of the matter. That night would mark the unofficial end of both their marriages, and even though it needed to happen, it would somehow be a much weightier thing to bear alone. Eventually, they’d walked up to the hotel, bid each other a somber good night, and gone to bed.
The next morning, they had work meetings to keep their minds occupied. But when lunch rolled around, they’d found a quiet park bench, and each took one AirPod to watch the footage on Milo’s phone. He’d bugged his own house so thoroughly, even Clem would’ve been impressed. Every second of the night before was recorded in high definition. Every word, every touch, everybreath—from every possible angle. They didn’t watch long, just enough to confirm with their own eyes that they had it right and Milo had what he needed, so there were no misunderstandings and no confusion. Even though the birdhouse footage had been damning enough, the very moment Jesse knocked on the door.
Eliana was grateful it worked so easily, but she quietly mourned the fact that her husband was so easily manipulated. So willing, and so depressingly predictable.
Before deciding how to proceed with his own divorce, Milo needed to confirm the evidence with his lawyer—so his first course of action was to set up an appointment the following week. Which then left them with the highly amusing and unregulated topic of what they should do in the meantime.
By the time they’d set down for dinner on Saturday evening, once their business was sorted and their minds were free, new ideas began to take shape. Simple thoughts born from seedlings of pain, taking root in their laughter, and then blossoming into beautiful, torturous plans for revenge. Moving straight fromwhat-ifterritory into logistical discussions in no more time than it took for them to consume dessert. The plan that rose to the forefront was particularly petty . . . but did that stop her from loading up a digital cart and paying extra for rush shipping? Not at all.
And now Milo sat beside her in his car the Thursday following their trip, rather than across a table laden with sweets, though his eyes were just as giddy as he glanced between her and the phone, leaning sideways over the console. “Is that from Clem? Did she send more texts?”
“Even better,” Eliana said. “It’s the recording of a phone call between the two of them last night.”
“No shit,” Milo chuckled. “That is wildly illegal, but way to go, Clem. Let’s hear it!”
Eliana laughed, clicking open the attachment—and when Jesse’s voice filled the car, she was proud to note that she didn’t so much as flinch.
“Did they test you for everything?”
“Of course, they tested me for everything,” Bea snapped. “I told you it wasn’t a fucking cold sore.”
“Then what was it?”
“A pimple!?“
Jesse scoffed, his tone scathing. “Well, something is going on, and it didn’t come from me. So if it didn’t come from the sore, the alternative is that you had an STD and didn’t tell me.”
“I did not!” Bea screeched. “How dare you! You gave ME one.” She paused, her tone dipping into one of horror. “What if Milo finds out?”
“Who gives a shit? I hope he catches it from you next.”
Bea gasped. “There’s nothing to catch, youasshole. The tests were clean.”
“Obviously there is, if we’ve both got it.”
“Then why don’t YOU get tested. I’m not going back in there. That was humiliating.”
“I want a copy of the test results.”
“Fuck you, Jesse.”
The line clicked dead. Eliana lifted her eyes, her brows raised, and met Milo’s gaze . . . and they broke, clenching their sides as they cackled.
“Sounds like trouble in paradise,” Milo gasped. “This is amazing. The itching powder?Genius.”
Eliana lowered her head in a mock bow, then nudged his shoulder. “I can’t take all the credit—the dash of AZO in their coffee was inspired. I never would’ve thought of that. Jesse screamed when he peed yesterday.Screamed. A little dramatic for a mild color change, if you want my opinion.”
“Stop,” Milo begged, his hazel eyes gleaming. “Can you send me that audio?”
“Of course.” Eliana wiped a tear away as she forwarded the link.
