It was just after 10pm and I was in my car dressed in a nightgown and snow boots. The temperature was far below freezing and I’d forgotten to bring my coat.
Having driven aimlessly around my neighborhood, I pulled over and texted my friend Timna in the breeziest way I could imagine.
I inquired about the location of our mutual friend’s new townhouse. Something in the tone of her text, which provided a vague description, alerted me to the fact that she knew. She may not have known everything, but she knew something.
Trying to ignore this for the moment, I followed her directions and found Melissa’s parked car near a row of townhouses. All the townhouses were dark except for one. The blinds were drawn, but there was a light coming from the second story window of the end unit.
God, and possibly the neighbors (because it’s that kind of neighborhood), knew how long I sat there, intermittently staring at the window and then my white fingers clenched on the wheel, before I called my friend Lourdes.
“Hello?” She sounded sleepy and this made me cry. Through my unintelligible tears, I managed to get across that it was me and I was parked outside our friend Melissa’s new townhouse because she was having an affair with my husband.
Lourdes was having trouble absorbing things. “Wait. Melissa has a townhouse?”
Calm after my first gush of emotion, I explained that since the time Lourdes, Timna, Melissa and I went out for drinks, a great deal had come to light, including Melissa’s separation from her husband and her affair with my husband.