What I Did At 8:00 The Next Morning, And The Part Of This That Was Never Actually About Desmond2

There was something else I rarely told anyone. Coralie and I had been friendly. Not close friends, but the kind of workplace acquaintances who remembered birthdays and asked about weekend plans. She had asked about my wedding venue, and I had shown her a photograph of my dress. For four years, I had sat across from a woman who was secretly spending her weekends with my fiancé. She had looked me in the eyes and asked whether I was excited about my wedding. Whether she meant to hurt me, test me, or had simply learned to separate her actions from their consequences, I would never know.

 

 

The investigation confirmed a clear, undisclosed conflict of interest. Coralie resigned before the company reached a final decision. Desmond called eleven times during the two weeks after he left. He sent a lengthy message explaining that he had been unhappy and hadn’t known how to tell me, as though unhappiness gave him permission to betray me. I read the message once and never responded.

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