Chapter 505

Olivia

The anonymous caller didn’t send me any more ‘proof’ for the rest of the night, regardless of the way the conversation had been left. I tossed and turned in bed, the last text from our conversation floating through my mind over and over again.

“I don’t believe you,” I had texted in a frantic flurry of denial. “Unless you send me solid proof of my husband cheating, I’m just going to assume that you’re messing with me, whoever you are.”

They hadn’t responded after that.

“It has to be a hoax,” I muttered to myself. I rolled onto my back and pressed my cool palm against my hot forehead, staring up at the ceiling fan.

The full moon outside illuminated the entire room in a pale blue glow, and as I glanced out the window, the back lawn was so bright from the moon that it almost looked like daytime.

Yes, it had to be a hoax; the caller had never sent another picture or anything, and maybe they had given up on their obvious lie.

I wasn’t sure what purpose their sinister texts had, or how they somehow managed to take photos from inside the summit meeting, but I would discuss it with Nathan as soon as he came home.

Not right now, though. No, I would wait until he got home in a week. I didn’t want to disturb him during the summit.

And yet, as I laid there tossing and turning all night until the pale light of the moon was replaced by that of the morning sun, I was the one who was disturbed.

By the time I finally sat up, rubbing my eyes and having given up on sleep, I had come to the conclusion that not only had some lying stranger disturbed my sleep, but I had disturbed my own sleep by refusing to call or speak to Nathan. God, I was gullible, wasn’t I?

Yawning, I threw the covers back and made my way down the stairs to the kitchen.

As I passed by the nursery, I took a glance at the twins, who were still fast asleep and likely would be for another hour or two. Gone were the days in which they barely slept through the night, at least for now. For a moment, I almost touched my belly, imagining the late nights and early mornings with our third child; but then it hit me.

I was no longer pregnant. Right.

Tears threatened to spill, but I quickly blinked them back and continued down the stairs. I made my way to the kitchen and brewed the coffee, losing myself in the process of making it. I even stood there, letting the morning sun hit my face through the window as I watched it drip into the pot.

But it was just as I was taking my first sip that I saw it.

My phone, which I had left on the kitchen counter overnight to keep myself from texting or calling the stranger, was blinking. I swallowed as I looked at it. Did I really want to open that can of worms right now?

Unfortunately, it seemed as though my hand made that decision for me. I slowly reached for the phone and turned it on to see a plethora of new texts pop up, all of which were from the anonymous caller.

“Well, if you want proof, here it is,” they said over the span of a string of several messages. “But I’m warning you, it’s gonna hurt.”

Then, a few minutes later: “Are you still there? Should I send the pictures?”

And a few minutes after that, there was one final message. “I’ll be waiting. Just say ‘yes’ when you’re ready.”

I drew in a shuddering breath as I stared down at the string of texts. So they had answered after all, in the middle of the night when I had finally convinced myself that it was just a hoax. I stood there for a few minutes, just blinking down at the texts.

No, I couldn’t convince myself now to send that one word. Even if he was cheating, I didn’t want to see it.

Suddenly, as I stood there, the soft sound of crying coming from the nursery caught my attention. I finally let out my breath, not realizing I had been holding it, and set down my phone.

The pictures could wait.

…

I set down the last load of laundry with a sigh and got to work. Finally, I was caught up on chores—for now, at least. With the twins happily playing with blocks and an old moving playing on the television, I couldn’t have been more content.

Actually, that was a lie.

My phone sat there, on the coffee table, silent and dark. I hadn’t heard a peep from Nathan all day, but somehow, that wasn’t nearly as bad as the silence I had heard from the stranger.

It was my fault, I supposed. The stranger had been clear—until I sent the word ‘yes’, they would leave me alone. So now, in front of me, I had two choices: I could either ignore the caller, block their number, and live on in blissful ignorance.

Or I could send that one little word and see what this so-called ‘proof’ was. But it might just shatter everything I thought I knew.

Suddenly, the sound of a loud bang on the TV as a gun was shot caused me to jump. I jolted in my spot on the couch, realizing that I had just zoned out for a solid five minutes with a half-folded towel sitting in my lap, just staring at my phone.

“Okay,” I finally said, tossing the towel back down into the basket and reaching for my phone. “I should just send it.”

Taking another deep breath for the millionth time that day, I grabbed my phone off of the table and opened it. The texts from the stranger still sat there, staring up at me.

And without giving myself another moment to think about it and change my mind again, I typed out my response.

“Yes.”

Minutes passed. Then half an hour, then an hour, then two hours. No response. In fact, the sun eventually went down, I fed the twins and got them to sleep, and I even managed to eat a meager dinner of my own.

And still no response.

It was nearly midnight. I was just stepping out of the shower, exhausted and ready for bed after missing sleep, when I heard it.

Ding.

My phone went off. Without even thinking, I quickly grabbed it off of the bathroom counter and felt my heart sink. A moment later, the phone slipped straight out of my hand and onto the tile floor.

Staring up at me was the ‘proof’ that the stranger had promised, and just as they had warned me, it… fucking hurt. Because the series of pictures that they had sent me, the images of my husband climbing into bed with a beautiful woman, felt like a knife had been twisted in my gut.

“There’s your proof,” the stranger’s last text blinked up at me. “I told you it would hurt. What will you do now, little Olivia? What now?”