Her greetings were warm, always with a touch of extra charm, and she'd ask about my day, making small talk that felt increasingly personal. She was attractive, no doubt about it, dark eyes, an easy laugh, and the kind of confidence that could turn heads. But for me, that was where it ended. I loved Emma. That was never up for debate.
So, I brushed off the little flirtations, kept my responses friendly, but brief. I didn't want to give her the wrong idea. Melissa looked up just as we passed, and her eyes landed on me. I gave her a polite nod and a quick, "Hello," but didn't linger. "Oh, Emma," I said, remembering my manners.
"This is Melissa. I come to this restaurant for lunch sometimes. She's the one at the cashier." Melissa, this is my wife, Emma." Melissa's face changed almost imperceptibly as she took in Emma's face. She froze for a second, her mouth slightly open, her eyes wide with something like surprise, but she quickly masked it with a smile. "Nice to meet you, Emma," she said, her voice friendly, but a bit distant.
Emma smiled politely, and we didn't stay for more than a moment before I excused us and led Emma further down the street. I couldn't help feeling relieved when we were out of earshot. It would have been awkward if Emma somehow picked up on Melissa's flirtations. That was the last thing I wanted to deal with right then. That night, after Emma had gone to bed, my phone buzzed with an unknown number.
I picked it up, frowning as I saw the message. Hey, it's Melissa. I stared at the screen, feeling a surge of annoyance. Why was she contacting me now? And how had she gotten my number?
I replied as politely as I could, asking her not to bother me. A minute later, my phone buzzed again. Please, Chris. I really need to talk to you. It's important.
The tone of her message gave me pause. There was a sense of urgency there, a seriousness I wasn't expecting. Against my better judgment, I texted back. "Fine, what is it?" She asked if we could meet in person, claiming it wasn't something she could say over the phone. I debated, ignoring her entirely, but something in me wouldn't let it go.
I had this feeling, an odd, uncomfortable feeling that maybe I should hear her out, so I agreed, arranging to meet her at a nearby coffee shop the next day. When I arrived, she was already there, sitting by the window, looking restless. She glanced up when I walked in, and her face broke into a look of relief. "Thanks for coming," she said quietly, motioning for me to sit. "Melissa, I don't know what this is about," I said, keeping my tone firm.
But I don't appreciate you contacting me after hours. You know I'm married. She nodded quickly. I know and I'm sorry. Believe me, I didn't mean to cause trouble, but there's something you need to know about your wife.
My whole body tensed. The room seemed to go a shade darker as I looked at her, waiting for her to continue. It's not easy to say this, she started. But I've seen her with someone else. I didn't realize she was your wife until last night, but I know her from the gym.
She comes to the gym often, Melissa continued. But it's not just her. There's another woman who's always with her. That's Lily, I said, feeling my stomach tighten. That woman, Lily, is always with a personal trainer there.
There a couple, I think, Melissa added. And your wife? She's often with another guy, too. He's a trainer as well. And I believe he's friends with Lily's boyfriend.