Chapter 3

At lunch I met Ellis at the noodle place near my office.

She grabbed my hand the second she sat down. "Don't say a word yet. Eat first."

She ordered me a bowl.

I pushed it to the side and told her everything — 0912, the ring, the postcards, and that whole night on my birthday.

She didn't say anything the whole time.

"He didn't change a single thing before you got married?"

"Said it wasn't worth the hassle."

"The couch, the curtains — do you even like any of it?"

"No."

Ellis leaned back in her chair.

"This apartment was decorated when he was still with Hector, wasn't it?"

"He finished the renovation the same year they broke up."

"So the passwords are hers, the furniture is hers, the safe has her ring, the closet has her letters."

"You didn't marry Rodriguez, Joel. You moved into a shell that Hector left behind."

I squeezed the crumpled napkin on the table. "I know."

"You know?"

"I've known for a while. This isn't new."

Ellis studied me, her expression complicated.

"Then why did it take you this long to get here?"

"I kept thinking it would get better with time. But it's been three years and he hasn't changed a single password."

Ellis's eyes went glassy. "What did the lawyer say?"

"Draft agreement in three to five days."

"What about the apartment?"

"He bought it before we were married. It's his."

"So you get nothing."

"I don't want anything."

She pressed her lips together hard. "You're moving in with me."

"Not yet. There's one thing I want to do first."

"What?"

"He said he'd make up my birthday this weekend. I want to see where he books."

Saturday at five, Rodriguez sent me a pin — a Japanese izakaya in the city center.

When I arrived, he was already looking over the menu.

"You pick — get whatever you want."

I ordered two dishes. Rodriguez added a carafe of sake and a salmon sashimi platter.

When the food came, I picked up my fork. "Have you been here before?"

"A few times. Food's good."

"With who?"

His hand paused on the carafe. "Work dinners."

I pulled out my phone and searched the restaurant's review page.

The top review had six photos. The last one was a selfie — Hector.

At the end of the review: We come here every anniversary. The owner knows us by now. Thank you for bringing me, Rodriguez.

Four years ago. Username: Cat On The Moon.

I turned my phone screen toward him. Rodriguez's face shifted.

"You dug that up on purpose?"

"It was the first review. I didn't have to dig."

"That was a long time ago."

"So you brought me here to make up my birthday, and ordered the same things you used to order with her."

He set down his fork. His voice dropped.

"Joel, are you ever not exhausted by this? I came here because the food is good. What does it matter who else I've been here with?"

"Name one thing I like to eat."

He looked at me. "What?"

"Just one. What do I like?"

The tables around us hummed with conversation, the clink of glasses, laughter. Our table was the quietest corner in the room.

Rodriguez's mouth opened slightly. "You're not picky."

"Okay, different question. What don't I eat?"

He didn't answer.

"I don't eat anything raw. No sashimi. I told you that the first month we moved in. You just ordered the salmon sashimi."

"You never really emphasized it."

"I did. You just didn't remember. Your memory is reserved for 0912."

His jaw tightened. "What exactly are you trying to say?"

I set down my fork, picked up my bag, and stood. "I'm done."

"Joel."

I didn't look back.

"Do you need to make a whole scene before you're satisfied?"

I walked out. A light rain was falling outside. I stood under the awning and waited for my ride.

My phone lit up. Rodriguez.

Such a bad attitude. It's just dinner, was it really that serious?

I muted his notifications and got in the car.

Rain slid down the window in long, slow streaks.

I texted Ellis.

I have all the confirmation I need. Can you make up the guest room?