“That was a terrible idea.”
She touched his arm.
“It was romantic.”
My stomach tightened.
I looked at Brandon.
He didn’t move away.
Then I noticed Matthew returning from the hallway.
He walked directly toward our table.
Jessica’s smile changed.
“Matthew. Where were you?”
He stopped beside her.
“Can we talk?”
She frowned.
“About what?”
“Privately.”
Brandon glanced up.
Jessica rolled her eyes.
“Can’t it wait?”
Matthew looked at her.
“No.”
The firmness in his voice surprised her.
She stood reluctantly.
Then she turned toward Brandon.
“Save me a piece of cake.”
He smiled automatically.
“Sure.”
Matthew looked directly at him.
The smile disappeared from Brandon’s face.
Then Matthew and Jessica walked toward the hallway.
For the first time all evening, my husband seemed uncomfortable.
He looked at me.
“What was that about?”
I took a sip of water.
“I don’t know.”
Brandon frowned.
“Matthew seemed upset.”
I looked at him.
“Maybe something happened.”
He studied my face.
Then he said quietly, “Lauren, are you angry about the dance?”
I placed my glass on the table.
“Should I be?”
He sighed.
“Here we go.”
I looked toward him.
“What does that mean?”
“It means you always do this.”
My stomach tightened.
“Do what?”
“Turn something harmless into a problem.”
I stared at him.
“Brandon, you let another woman kiss you.”
He shook his head.
“It was a greeting.”
“You held her close on the dance floor.”
“One dance.”
“You shared a glass and a piece of cake while people talked about how you should have stayed together.”
He rolled his eyes.
“It’s a reunion, Lauren.”
I took a breath.
“Would you be comfortable if I behaved that way with an ex-boyfriend?”
He looked irritated.
“That’s different.”
I stared at him.
“Why?”
“Because you don’t understand the history.”
For a moment, I couldn’t speak.
Then I asked, “What history am I supposed to understand?”
He hesitated.
“Jessica and I grew up together.”
I nodded.
“You dated her.”
“Yes.”
“You loved her.”
He looked away.
“That was twenty years ago.”
I leaned forward.
“Then why does it look like you’re still trying to impress her?”
His face hardened.
“I’m not doing this here.”
I looked at him.
For the first time that evening, I agreed.
“Neither am I.”
I stood.
Picked up my purse.
And walked toward the exit.
Brandon called after me.
“Lauren.”
I kept walking.
I didn’t need another public argument.
I needed distance from a room where my husband had made me feel like an inconvenient spectator in his memories.
Outside, the Ohio evening was cool.
I stood beneath the entrance awning and called a rideshare.
My hands were trembling.
For nine years, I’d believed Brandon understood the difference between nostalgia and disrespect.
Now I wasn’t sure whether he wanted to understand it.
My phone vibrated.
Matthew.
“Jessica admitted they’ve been communicating privately for months. There’s more. I’ll explain tomorrow.”
I stared at the screen.
Then another message arrived.
“Please don’t confront Brandon about Cincinnati until we speak.”
My heart began pounding.
I looked through the glass entrance doors.
Brandon was standing near the hallway.
Jessica was beside him.
Matthew had disappeared from view.
Brandon looked toward her.
She touched his arm.
Then he embraced her.
Not like an old acquaintance.
Like someone trying to comfort a person who mattered deeply to him.
I turned away before the rideshare arrived.
The drive home took nearly half an hour.
I stared through the window while familiar suburbs passed beneath streetlights.
I thought about the things Brandon had said during the previous months.
Jessica was adventurous.
Jessica remembered their old songs.
Jessica hadn’t forgotten prom.
Jessica understood his childhood.
I had believed those statements were harmless.
Now I wondered whether he’d been telling me about an emotional relationship developing in plain sight.
When I reached our house, I changed into pajamas and sat on the edge of the bed.
Brandon’s side was empty.
His watch rested on the dresser.
His favorite sweatshirt hung behind the bedroom door.
Everything looked ordinary.
That somehow made the evening more painful.
At 11:42, Brandon called.
I let it ring.
A message appeared.
“Where are you?”
I replied.
“Home.”
He answered almost immediately.
“Seriously? You left without telling me?”
I stared at the screen.
Then typed, “I told you I wasn’t having that conversation there.”
He called again.
This time, I answered.
“Lauren.”
His voice sounded irritated.
“What’s going on with you?”
I closed my eyes.
“Brandon, I’m tired.”
“You embarrassed me.”
I stared at the wall.
“What?”
“You just walked out.”
I felt a sudden rush of disbelief.
“Did you notice what happened before I walked out?”
He sighed.
“Are we really still talking about Jessica?”
“Yes.”
“Lauren, it was a reunion.”
I took a breath.
“Then tell me why Matthew is upset.”
The line went silent.
For several seconds, Brandon didn’t speak.
Then he asked, “What did Matthew say?”
My stomach tightened.
“Why?”
“Lauren.”
His voice sharpened.
“What did he tell you?”
I looked toward the bedroom window.
“He said you and Jessica have been talking privately.”
Brandon exhaled.
“Of course we’ve been talking.”
“He also mentioned Cincinnati.”
Silence.
I waited.
Then Brandon said, “I don’t know what you’re implying.”
I closed my eyes.
“Did you meet Jessica there two weeks ago?”
He hesitated.
That hesitation was enough to make my chest tighten.
“Brandon?”
“We were both in town.”
I stared at the wall.
“That wasn’t my question.”
He sighed.
“Yes. We had coffee.”
I felt cold.
“You told me you were meeting clients all day.”
“I was.”
“And Jessica?”
“We met afterward.”
“For how long?”
He sounded annoyed.
“Lauren, I don’t remember exactly.”
I closed my eyes.
“Then we’ll talk tomorrow.”
He began speaking more quickly.
“Don’t start making accusations because Matthew can’t handle his wife having old friends.”
I stared at the phone.
For the first time, I understood why Matthew had asked me not to confront Brandon yet.
Because Brandon was already preparing to blame him.
I spoke quietly.
“Goodnight.”
