I nodded, but Oliver seemed stunned for a moment before handing his phone to me. “If there are calls from the company, you’ll have to handle them.” “Then, Lisa, give me some time, okay?” Turning around, I entered my birthday, unlocked the phone, and opened the messaging interface.
The notes Oliver gave me were always just one word long. When we first got married, I lost my temper and asked him to change, but Oliver always pushed back, saying, “My cell phone is full of company messages, so it’s inconvenient.” He added, “Lisa is the best to me and would never make things difficult for me.” I can’t recall if I eventually grew tired of being rejected or if I simply forgot, but I never brought it up again.
Today, “Anna Morgan” is the only name in his favorites in his phone. I clicked on it, and thousands of messages flooded the screen. Sister-in-law, sister, ex-wife, mistress… My title changed as Oliver’s affection for Anna grew. She claimed that the mistress is the one who is not loved. Oliver catered to her, saying, “It’s all time’s fault. We should have met much earlier.” I suppressed my racing heart, my fingertips lingering on the messages from the day of the car accident.
At midnight, Anna urged him, “Oli, when are we going to take our wedding photos?” Oliver replied simply, “Now.” He stayed out all night, and when he didn’t answer my calls or reply to my texts, worry gnawed at me, keeping me awake.
In the early morning, Anna gushed about the clothes again. “Oli, you really have an eye for this,” she said, giggling. “Wearing a suit makes you radiate sexual tension.” She added with a smirk, “There’s something thrilling about sleeping with someone else’s husband.”
Just then, Oliver called me back, saying he was taking me for our wedding photos. He mentioned he’d finished his makeup and was already in his suit. Heart racing with excitement, I slipped into the worn wedding dress from that year and sprinted toward the car.
It was five minutes before the crash. As I rushed, Anna began scrolling through her child’s ultrasound orders. “I’m pregnant,” she announced nonchalantly. “I stuffed the pregnancy test into your clothes. Want to bet when Lisa will find out?” She turned to Oliver, her eyes glinting. “Are you happy about becoming a father?”