An envelope with my name written in Claire’s handwriting was lying there. Next to it, her phone. I thought it had been lost with the car. I pictured it lying at the bottom of the river, with all the words she had never had time to say.
Megan murmured, “The security guard said she was in a hurry that day and probably forgot them.”
My fingers were barely working when I opened the envelope.
“Alice, if you’re reading this, it’s time the truth came out. Don’t trust Ryan. Watch the latest video in the gallery on this phone.”
I stopped breathing.
I picked up the phone. My thumb was shaking so much that I missed the screen the first time. Then I opened the gallery and pressed play.
The screen displayed Ryan.
That’s not my Ryan standing at the altar. A younger Ryan, but the same face, the same voice, the same smile.
Claire stood before him as he slipped a ring onto her finger. Then he kissed her.
A hoarse sound escaped from my throat.
The next sequence began before I could collect my thoughts. Ryan was sitting in a restaurant booth, far too close to another woman. Then another sequence. Another woman. Yet another.
The filming of Claire was shaky, rushed, furious.
Megan put her hand to her mouth. “Oh my God.”
For several seconds, I remained frozen in front of the screen, Claire’s last words echoing in my head. Then I grabbed the phone, folded the note, and left before completely collapsing in front of Megan.
I cried all the way back and had to stop once because I couldn’t see the road because of my tears.
That evening, Ryan came in through the front door, carrying yellow roses and a box of cupcakes from my favorite bakery.
“Hey,” he said softly. “I was thinking maybe we could…”
Then he stopped.
Both our families were sitting in the living room. My parents were stiff and pale on the sofa. His mother was standing by the fireplace. And I was standing by the coffee table, Claire’s phone in my hand.
“Sit down,” I said.
Ryan stared at the phone when I pressed play.
Silence reigned in the room, except for Claire’s shaky videos and Ryan’s voice coming from the small speaker. By the end of the first video, his face had turned gray. By the second, his mother had sat down without even looking for a chair.
When the third clip was finished, my father whispered, “My God.”
Ryan finally spoke up. “I can explain.”
” You are welcome. “
