Jessica took a deep breath and walked upstairs to the bedroom.
She lay awake with many questions and worries coursing through her mind: Maybe the young woman was simply a coworker—Jason had picked her up at his office. But why had they gone for a walk in the park, arm-in-arm? Should she confront him?
How would she explain that she had seen them because she had followed them?
She heard Jason come home a short while after she went to bed. He’s home already? That must be a good sign, she thought.
She pretended to be asleep when he came into the bedroom. I’ll deal with it in the morning, she decided.
***
The breakfast table encounter between Jessica and her husband the next morning was almost a repeat performance of dinner. Jason was nervous and shifty.
He tried to make small talk, but Jessica ignored it.
“What time did you get home last night?” she asked.
“Around nine,” Jason replied, which was correct—Jessica had glanced at the clock on her side table when she heard him come in. “We made good progress last night on the project; it went quicker than I thought it would.”
“Good progress?” Jessica echoed with a sharp edge in her voice.
Jason pretended not to catch her tone. “Yes,” she said.
“But tonight could be a very late one. We have a presentation to the Simmons board tomorrow. Don’t worry about dinner; I’ll order pizzas or something for the office.”
So, that settles it, Jessica thought.
He’s going to go out with that woman again tonight. “Very well,” she said coldly. “And I won’t wait up, same as last night.
Don’t wake me when you come home.”
“Okay, Jess,” Jason said. “I’m sorry about this. I promise I’ll make it up to you when the project ends.
I know this is a difficult time, but I promise it’ll work out for the best.”
Jessica simply looked at him without saying anything. The shiftiness in his eyes gave him away yet again.
Since Jason had become CFO at the company where he worked, Jessica had been able to quit her job and follow her passion for food photography. She had a few steady clients to keep her busy some days, and for the rest, she was finally writing the novel that had lived in her head for so many years.
She opened up her laptop at the kitchen counter soon after Jason had left and tried to carry on writing.
But she couldn’t focus at all.
The questions continued: Maybe it’s my fault; am I no longer attractive to my husband? Is he not satisfied with our love-making anymore? They had indeed slowed down on that front, but that was natural, wasn’t it, in such a long marriage?
Jessica closed her laptop and sat pondering what to do.
She reached for her phone and dialed Musa’s number. “Musa,” she said when he answered, “can you meet me again tonight? Same time and place?”
Musa was waiting in his cab when Jessica stepped out the back gate.
After greeting each other warmly, Jessica outlined her plan.
“I’m taking a chance tonight, Musa,” she said. “I’m not sure what’s going on, but I need conclusive proof before I do something I might regret. Let’s go to his office building and wait there.
He said he would be working late again.”
Musa agreed, and they made their way to Jason’s office block and took up station in the cab with a good view of the front entrance. “This might be a long wait,” Jessica said. “I’ll pay you the extra, same as yesterday.”
“No problem, madam, I am at your service,” Musa replied.
They settled into silence but didn’t have to wait long. Soon, Jason and the blonde woman walked out of the building. They turned right and continued together on foot.
“Follow them, please, Musa,” Jessica said.
Musa pulled the taxi out of the parking space and crawled down the street a few steps behind the pedestrian couple. No sooner had they set off than a horn barked at the slow-moving cab.
Jason looked sharply in their direction. Jessica turned her head away quickly.
“Did he see me?” she asked Musa. “Do you think he saw me? Is he still looking this way?”
“I think he didn’t see you.
No, he’s looking away again. But I think they will see us if we keep up like this. Maybe I should speed up?” Musa suggested.
The driver in the car behind them leaned heavily again on the horn as if to answer that question.
“Okay, go ahead,” Jessica said, “but stop and let them catch up. I want to see where they are going.
Musa did as instructed, pulling the cab over a few hundred feet ahead. Jessica lay down on the back seat to avoid being seen when Jason and the woman drew alongside.
They were deep in conversation and paid no need to the taxi cab, walking on.
Jessica sat up again and watched them trundle on down the busy street. Just as they were about to disappear from view, they stopped, and Jason motioned with a hand toward the building alongside them. Jessica knew it: Luigi’s was their favorite Italian restaurant.
“He’s taking her out to dinner at Luigi’s,” Jessica said sadly.
“So, this is it then.”
“Looks that way, madam. What do you want to do?” Musa asked.
Jessica sat silently for some time, thinking it through. “I want to be sure, Musa.
Maybe they are just discussing work over dinner,” she said, and added, “Are you hungry?”
“Madam?” Musa asked, confused.
“How about I buy you dinner?” Jessica asked. She reached into her handbag for her purse, took out a fifty-dollar note, and handed it to Musa. “Dinner’s on me.
Go into that restaurant where they are, take a table as close as you can to them, order dinner, and then come back and tell me how they behave towards each other.”
“Madam, are you sure that’s a good idea?” Musa asked.
“I’m not sure at all! I feel like I’m losing my mind,” Jessica said. “But I have to do something!”
“All right, madam, I’ll help you, don’t worry,” Musa said.
He took the fifty-dollar note and crossed the street to the restaurant. Jessica watched him enter. Not two minutes later, she saw him walk out again.
He walked back to the cab, climbed back into the driver’s seat, turned around, and handed Jessica her cash back.
“They wouldn’t give me a seat,” he said. “The manager said I didn’t have a reservation.”
“What!” Jessica exclaimed. “That is totally unacceptable.
Jason and I eat there often without a reservation. I’m going in myself.”
Jessica popped the door open and marched down the street into the restaurant. She was met by the maître d’, a small, friendly man named Dimitri, who greeted her with a worried look on his face.
He glanced over to where Jason and his companion were seated at a table at the window.
“Um, er, hello, ma’am,” he stammered, “will you be joining us for dinner this evening?”
“Dimitri, that man who was just here alone, asking for a table, did you tell him he needs to have a reservation and can’t be seated?” Jessica asked angrily.
“Um, ma’am, yes, sorry, is he your guest? I am so sorry! As you can see, the restaurant is full, but I would be happy to find a space for you both.
Will you be joining your husband?” he added nervously.
“No, I will not be joining my husband!” Jessica replied rather more loudly than she intended, raising looks from some of the diners, including Jason. He looked up from his plate of pasta and went pale with shock.
Jessica stood her ground at the entrance and stared at Jason defiantly. He stood up and approached his very angry wife.
“Jess, what are you doing here?” he asked nervously.
“What am I doing here?” Jessica challenged back.
“What am I doing here, you ask? The question is, what are you doing here? You told me you were working late and having pizzas at the office.
And I find you here with another woman! Who is that woman with you, Jason?”
“Jess, I can explain everything, everything. Please.
Why don’t you join us, please,” he put a hand on Jessica’s shoulder, but she brushed it off brusquely. “Dimitri, please set up a place for my wife at the table,” Jason asked the maître d’.
“Don’t bother, Dmitri, this won’t take long,” Jessica said, shooting a look at the young woman at the table who was watching the scene with interest.
Jessica walked over calmly, not looking at Jason. She sat down and examined the woman across from her.
She was about twenty in Jessica’s estimation, very pretty, with hazel-colored eyes and a lovely, freckled nose. Jessica saw
