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When I arrived at the hotel, I still hesitated to go inside—to take the elevator and listen to the reading of the eulogy for my relationship. So I pulled out my phone and saw that he hadn't messaged me. Why would he? What was I expecting really?
Gritting my teeth, I dialed Manon's number.
"Who’s dead?" She answered in less than five seconds.
"No one. Well… sort of. Not a person. But possibly my relationship." I had meant to call her immediately after I made the discovery, but then I hesitated. If Manon knew, there would be no turning back.
That's why I was now bringing her into the loop.
"Wait… what? Did you break up with him?" she asked excitedly. "That's the best news I've heard all week. No, this year. I told you that you deserve much, much better. Do you want me to come over so we can toast to it?"
Her reaction didn't surprise me. Yet, I felt pressure in my chest. How was I supposed to explain? "I'm about to catch him red-handed, M."
"You're what?"
Before answering, I took a deep breath and exhaled. "He's cheating on me, I guess. His supposed business trip is happening in Toronto. He didn't even bother to leave town to have his affair. Now I want to see it with my own eyes."
Manon was silent. Agonizingly long seconds passed before my best friend since childhood finally let out a long sigh. "Okay. I'm sorry about what I just said. Should I come over? What do you need?"
That's exactly why I loved this woman—no matter how impulsive she was, whether she wore her heart on her sleeve, or when she made a mistake, no matter how small—she would apologize immediately and make every effort to set things right.
"Just a little nudge really. I'm still in front of the building and don't dare to?—"
She didn't let me finish. "Pull yourself together, okay? No matter what damning evidence you've found, you need to see it with your own eyes to move on. I know you. So go in there, see the kind of woman he's cheating on you with, and then pack your bags so you can move in with me."
I hadn't thought about what would happen after I had confirmed his infidelity.
"Okay. Fine. I'm going in. But this is crossing the Rubicon; you do realize that, right?"
"No idea what that means, but it sounds like exactly the right decision. Into battle," she said, cheering me on. "And don't forget the updates."
Probably the only update would be proving my suspicion. "Sure," I replied softly and hung up.
Somehow, hearing her voice had helped me. It reminded me that at the end of the day, she was always on my side, and I would never be completely alone.
Into battle, I repeated in my mind and edged my way through the entrance with several tourists before parting ways and heading straight for the elevators. One opened just then as several guests exited, allowing me to slip inside. With the back of my fist, I pressed the button that sent the elevator up to the restaurant.
As it ascended, I mentally counted to ten, trying to shake off the nervousness causing me to fidget. It only helped a bit, and as soon as the doors opened again, I felt adrenaline rush through my body.
I would have preferred to hide in the bathroom until the crushing sensation in my guts had dissipated. But there was no time to turn into a scaredy-cat as I spotted the hostess with the guest list, knowing I had to make a quick decision while she was still busy with the group in front of her.
I turned right, ducking under the hanging branches of the plants set up for privacy.
Normally, this was the moment when one would stop in awe and admire the Toronto skyline, but my gaze was stuck on the back of a man's head who was sitting at the other end of the restaurant next to a blonde woman and…
He turned around, his arm raised, likely to summon a server, but my reflexes had already kicked in. Instinctively, I ducked and slid into the nearest chair to avoid making a fool of myself in front of everyone.
The second I sat down, I leaned back, craning my neck in the direction where I had spotted him. Sitting with a woman. Though she wasn't to blame for his being a jerk, at that moment, I hated her anyway.
This—
Someone cleared their throat. No, not just someone. The man whose table I had unabashedly seated myself at.
Heat rose to my cheeks as I met his dark, gray gaze. "If you are indeed my date, I have a few questions."
I opened my mouth, then closed it, and found myself giving him a thorough appraisal.
A date? With him? He was like something out of my wildest dreams. My naughtiest books. I watched as he wiped his mouth with a napkin before carelessly throwing it beside his plate on the table. Dark tattoos peeked out from under the sleeve of his suit, extending, upon closer inspection, over his hands to his fingers. A ring on his pinkie, a watch on his wrist, and a nondescript bracelet.
