I’ve never been someone who gets jealous, but something felt off.
One night, as he was in the shower, a notification from a restaurant reservation app popped up on his phone. I took a picture before it disappeared.
Curiosity made me look further, and I found out Mark had booked dinner at a fancy French restaurant he had never taken me to.
The reservation was for the next Friday at 7 p.m.
I didn’t confront him.
I decided to handle it on my own.
On the evening of the dinner, I dressed carefully and went to that restaurant.
I booked a table right next to Mark’s, just a thin glass divider between us. But I wasn’t alone.
I had invited someone—Daniel, my ex–boyfriend.
He is now a branch director at a financial firm and used to look up to Mark when we were all friends. Even after I got married, Daniel and I stayed in touch as friends.
I called him and said:
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