Derek: N a min

Naomi: Is she still there?

There were more text messages, but Antonia’s vision blurred with unshed tears. She was terrified to blink because it would break the dam. Her hands trembled as she scrolled onward. And there was so much to scroll through. The most damning messages had been sent while Antonia wandered through the tour behind the wedding planner. She remembered passing through the underwater exhibit where friendly gray seals smiled through the glass. Antonia had turned to point them out to Derek, who had been focused on his phone. The blue shimmer of the tank had competed with the blue light of his screen, and failed. He’d glanced over at the gliding giants and nodded. This was what he was typing? This is who he was talking to?

Antonia’s face grew warm and she became dizzy. She choked back a sob and buried the phone facedown into Derek’s duvet. She couldn’t bear to see anymore. What now? Her mind raced. She was frozen, stuck in a moment of indecision. Dealing with this horrific discovery was infinitely harder than sneak, slide and peek. She did the deed and found out the worst. Antonia searched her memory for moments that could have revealed truth and turned up nothing. She’d been had. Derek successfully pulled the wool over her eyes while she planned their wedding. When had this started?

Antonia turned the phone over and continued scrolling. Too many text messages! Her face contorted as she scrolled past Derek making plans with Naomi; her sending him hearts and xoxo’s. Finally, she stopped at an image. Her own hand clapped over her mouth before she could let out a scream.

Oh god, no. May 10th, 11:23 p.m.

Nearly a month ago, a text was sent from Derek.

A crude photo of his dick was posed in the soft lights of his bedroom. From where she was sitting, Antonia glanced at her reflection in the mirror that hung in front of his bed. She glanced back at the photo. It was indeed his dick. His narrow hips were thrust forward so that Naomi couldn’t miss the subject of his amateur photography. Behind him was the same bedside table and lamp that Antonia currently sat next to. She’d bought the lamp from Pottery Barn to impress him.

The stream of the shower stopped; the curtain rustled as Derek stepped out. Antonia’s gaze flew to the now foggy bathroom. She had to leave. Her throat was tight with dread. His normally spacious bedroom with its fancy bachelor trappings quickly became a tomb.

What would Augusta do?

Antonia’s mind went blank from the fright and fury that bubbled within her.

“What did you want to talk about, babe?” Derek asked, wrapping a plush white towel around his waist.

Antonia looked up, phone still in hand, and stared at him. She was too shocked to speak. Derek gazed back at her, his expression was unreadable as he glanced from her to his phone.