Maybe because something inside me had been cracking for years, and this was simply the sound of it finally breaking.
I smiled. Not a big smile. Just enough to relax the table.
Then I placed my napkin down and said, “Excuse me. I need the restroom.”
No one stopped me. Brandon barely glanced in my direction.
In the restroom, I stood at the sink and stared at my reflection in the mirror under soft yellow lighting. My makeup was still flawless. My navy dress still fit exactly the way Brandon once said he liked. My wedding ring caught the light when I gripped the marble counter. I should have cried. I should have splashed water on my face, composed myself, and returned to survive another evening.
Instead, I unlocked my phone.
First, I opened the shared family cloud drive Brandon had forgotten was synced to my laptop and phone years ago.
Then I opened the folder I had discovered three weeks earlier.
Then I sent one email.
After that, I returned to the table, sat down, folded my hands in my lap, and waited.
