My thumb hovered over the screen for one second.
Then I forwarded the image.
Vanessa in Ethan’s shirt.
Ethan asleep behind her.
The champagne.
The proof.
Underneath it, I typed one message:
“Looks like our CEO has been working very hard on this new project. Vanessa appears deeply committed to supporting him. Congratulations to both of them. May their happiness last a hundred years.”
I hit send.
The message landed in the board chat like a grenade sliding across polished mahogany.
For a few seconds, nothing happened.
Then one person read it.
Then another.
Profile icons began lighting up one by one in the darkness.
I smiled.
Vanessa thought she had destroyed the wife.
She had actually destroyed the husband.
I powered off my phone, removed the SIM card, walked into the marble bathroom, and flushed it down the toilet.
Watching the old version of myself disappear felt strangely peaceful.
