Chapter 2 - The Revenge Agreement
The message from Rachel appeared on Michael’s phone while we were sitting across from each other in the quiet corner of a coffee shop.
I stared at the screen.
Not because I wanted to invade his privacy.
Because I already knew what it would say.
People like Rachel and Daniel always followed the same pattern.
They left.
They hurt someone.
Then they checked to see if they were still being missed.
Michael turned the phone toward me.
Rachel's message was simple.
"Seriously?"
I almost laughed.
After everything that happened, after destroying two marriages in a single afternoon, that was all she could say?
Not "Are you okay?"
Not "I'm sorry."
Not "I know this hurts."
Just:
Seriously?
Michael leaned back in his chair and ran his hand through his hair.
"She saw us together for less than five minutes."
I looked at him.
"We aren't even together."
"I know."
"Then why does she sound angry?"
Michael smiled bitterly.
"Because people don't always miss you when they lose you. Sometimes they just hate seeing you move on."
That sentence stayed with me.
Because I knew exactly what he meant.
Daniel had chosen Rachel.
But somehow, the idea of me being okay without him already bothered him.
My phone vibrated.
I looked down.
Daniel.
For a moment, I couldn't move.
Michael noticed.
"You don't have to answer."
I stared at his name.
Six years.
Six years of waking up beside that name.
Six years of believing that person was my safest place.
Then I remembered the airport photo.
His arm around Rachel.
Her wearing my coat.
My pearls.
I declined the call.
Michael didn't say anything.
He didn't congratulate me.
He didn't tell me I was strong.
And somehow, that made it easier.
Because everyone else would have expected me to be dramatic.
To cry.
To scream.
But Michael understood something.
Sometimes silence was the only thing you had left.
A few seconds later, Daniel sent a message.
"Can we talk?"
I showed it to Michael.
He looked at the screen.
Then at me.
"What do you want to do?"
The question surprised me.
Because nobody had asked me that since everything happened.
Everyone else had been telling me what I should do.
My mother told me to focus on healing.
My friends told me to hire a lawyer.
My coworkers told me to take time off.
But Michael asked what I wanted.
And honestly?
I didn't know.
"I want him to understand what he did."
Michael nodded.
"I want Rachel to understand too."
We sat there quietly.
Two people who had spent years putting someone else's happiness before our own.
Then Michael leaned forward.
"Can I tell you something?"
"Sure."
"Two weeks before Rachel left, I turned down a promotion."
I frowned.
"Why?"
"Because she said my work was destroying our marriage."
I looked at him.
"She said if I accepted the position, I cared more about my career than her."
My stomach tightened.
Because I knew that feeling.
"Daniel did the same thing."
Michael looked at me.
"What?"
"Last year, I was offered a bigger account. It meant traveling more. Better salary. Better position."
"And?"
"I turned it down."
"Because of him?"
I nodded.
"He said he couldn't handle being alone so often."
Michael looked away.
Neither of us spoke for a while.
Because suddenly this wasn't just about cheating.
It was about everything we had given away.
The opportunities.
The dreams.
The pieces of ourselves we had sacrificed for people who were already planning to leave.
"They didn't just leave us," Michael said quietly.
"They changed us before they left."
I looked at him.
And for the first time since Daniel's message arrived, I felt something other than pain.
I felt understood.
But then Michael said something I wasn't prepared for.
"What if we stopped letting them tell the story?"
I raised an eyebrow.
"What do you mean?"
"What if Daniel and Rachel think they won?"
I laughed softly.
"Michael, they ran away together."
"Exactly."
He leaned closer.
"They left expecting us to fall apart."
I looked down at my coffee.
"So what? We pretend we're fine?"
"Not pretend."
He paused.
"Show them."
I knew where this was going before he said it.
"No."
Michael smiled slightly.
"You don't even know what I was going to say."
"Yes, I do."
"Claire."
"No."
"What if we went on a date?"
I stared at him.
Then I laughed.
A real laugh.
The first one in almost two days.
"You have officially lost your mind."
"Probably."
"You want me to date my best friend's husband?"
"Not date."
He raised his hands.
"Fake date."
I shook my head.
"This is insane."
"I know."
"This is something teenagers do after a breakup."
"I know."
"This is ridiculous."
"I know."
I looked at him.
"Then why are you suggesting it?"
His smile disappeared.
"Because I know exactly what it feels like to watch someone you love choose someone else."
That answer hurt.
Because it was honest.
No performance.
No manipulation.
Just pain.
I looked outside the window.
People were walking down the street.
Going to work.
Buying coffee.
Living normal lives.
Meanwhile, mine had been destroyed before lunch yesterday.
"I have rules," I finally said.
Michael looked surprised.
"You're considering it?"
"Don't get excited."
"I won't."
"No sleeping together."
"Agreed."
"No pretending when we're alone."
He nodded.
"We don't become emotional replacements."
"Agreed."
"No jealousy."
Michael smiled.
"That's probably going to be the hardest one."
I ignored that.
"And the second Daniel or Rachel come back, this ends."
Michael extended his hand.
"Deal."
I looked at his hand.
Then shook it.
It was supposed to be a business agreement.
A revenge plan.
A temporary arrangement between two broken people.
Nothing more.
At least that's what I told myself.
The first fake date happened the next evening.
Michael chose a restaurant in River North.
Rachel's favorite restaurant.
I knew exactly what he was doing.
"You planned this."
He looked confused.
"What?"
"This place."
He sighed.
"Yes."
"Why?"
"Because if she hears about us, she'll know I chose somewhere she loved."
I smiled.
"You're petty."
"So are you."
I couldn't argue.
Because he was right.
I wore a black dress Daniel always said was too dramatic.
The irony wasn't lost on me.
For years, I had changed myself to make him comfortable.
The dress was something I bought and never wore because Daniel said it attracted too much attention.
That night, I wore it because I finally stopped caring.
Michael arrived wearing a dark suit.
For a second, I understood why people noticed him.
He looked confident.
But I could see the exhaustion behind his eyes.
"You ready?" he asked.
"No."
"Good."
I looked at him.
"Good?"
"Because if you were ready, you'd be pretending."
That was the strange thing about Michael.
He never tried to convince me everything was okay.
He knew it wasn't.
Inside the restaurant, we acted like two people getting to know each other.
Not lovers.
Not a couple.
Just two people enjoying dinner.
And somehow, that made it more believable.
Because we weren't forcing anything.
We weren't trying too hard.
We were simply two wounded people sitting together.
Halfway through dessert, Michael's phone buzzed.
He looked at the screen.
Then smiled.
"What?"
He turned the phone toward me.
A photo.
Someone had taken a picture of us.
Rachel's coworker.
She had seen us.
"How long do you think until Rachel knows?"
Michael checked the time.
"Maybe ten minutes."
He was wrong.
It took seven.
My phone rang.
Daniel.
I looked at Michael.
He nodded.
"Don't answer."
I didn't.
A minute later, another message appeared.
From Daniel.
"Claire. Are you seriously doing this?"
I stared at the words.
Because there was something strange about them.
Not sadness.
Not regret.
Anger.
He wasn't asking if I was okay.
He was angry that I wasn't waiting.
Then Michael's phone rang.
Rachel.
He didn't answer either.
We sat there.
Looking at two phones lighting up.
Two people who had left us.
Two people who suddenly wanted answers.
And then Michael's expression changed.
Because a second message from Rachel appeared.
This time, it wasn't angry.
It was afraid.
The message said:
"Michael... you don't know what Daniel and I found."
I looked at the screen.
My heart started beating faster.
Because for the first time, I wondered if Daniel and Rachel hadn't only betrayed us.
Maybe they had been hiding something else.
Michael opened the message.
Then another notification appeared.
A photo attachment.
He tapped it.
May you like
And the picture loading on his screen showed my apartment door...
taken from the inside.
