The plan comes together over the next week. Nathan and I meet twice more. Once at the same park, once at a diner 45 minutes away where there’s no chance of running into anyone we know. We go over every detail.
Dererick thinks I don’t know. Vanessa thinks Nathan doesn’t know. They’re both laying their respective spouses, planning their secret meetups, probably counting down the days until they can find a way to be together without consequences.
They have no idea what’s coming.
The hard part is acting normal. I have to smile at Dererick over breakfast, let him kiss me goodbye, ask him about his day, all while knowing exactly what he’s doing, who he’s texting when he steps out of the room, where he really is when he says he’s working late.
But I do it because the payoff is going to be worth it.
Nathan tells me he’s doing the same thing with Vanessa, pretending everything is fine. She even showed him the dress she bought for their anniversary dinner, asking if he liked it.
He said yes, he didn’t.
Tell her she wouldn’t be wearing it.
5 days before my anniversary, Dererick confirms our reservation.
“7:00 p.m. at Merllo’s,” he says, “just like every year.”
“Sounds perfect,” I say.
What I don’t tell him is that I’ve made a few calls of my own.
The night of our anniversary arrives. I spend the afternoon getting ready. I shower. I do my makeup. I curl my hair. I wear the red dress Dererick bought me for my birthday 2 years ago. Back when things were still good, or at least back when I thought they were good.
Madison is at Dererick’s mother’s house for the night.
“A special sleepover with grandma,” I told her.
She was excited.
Dererick looks handsome in his suit. He always cleans up well. That’s part of what attracted me to him in college. That and his smile. And the way he used to look at me like I was the only person in the room.
He doesn’t look at me that way anymore.
“You look beautiful,” he says as we’re leaving.
“Thank you.”
The sale.
Drive to the restaurant is quiet. Dererick fiddles with the radio. I stare out the window and try to keep my hands from shaking.
We arrive at Merllo’s right at 7:00. It’s one of those upscale places with dim lighting and white tablecloths and a wine list thicker than a phone book. Dererick loves it because it makes him feel important.
The hostess greets us with a smile.
“Reservation for Mitchell.”
“That’s us,” Derek says.
“Right this way.”
She leads us through the restaurant past couples celebrating birthdays and business deals and quiet Tuesday nights. And then we turn a corner into a semi-private section of the dining room.
And there they are, Vanessa and Nathan, at a table right next to ours.
I watch Dererick’s face drain of color. He stops walking so suddenly I almost bump into him. Vanessa’s eyes go wide. She looks from Derek to me to Nathan and back again.
“Oh, what a coincidence,” I say brightly, loud enough for nearby tables to hear.
“Derek, look, it’s Vanessa from the dance academy, and this must be your husband, Nathan, right?”
Nathan stands up, playing his part perfectly. He extends his hand to Derek.
“Nice to finally meet you, man.”
“Vanessa talks about Madison all the time, says she’s a great dancer.”
Dererick’s hand moves automatically to shake Nathan’s, but I can see the panic in his eyes.
“Uh, yeah, thanks.”
“Why don’t you join us?” I suggest, gesturing to their table.
“There’s plenty of room.”
“We should all get to know each other better since our girls are in the same class.”
“Oh, I don’t think—”
Vanessa starts.
I insist.
Nathan interrupts. He’s not smiling anymore.
“It’s fate, right? Running into you guys on our anniversary.”
“How perfect is that?”
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