Sometimes we talked about ordinary things.
One evening, he called to ask about the bracelets.
“Megan told me about the box,” he said.
I smiled faintly.
“She did?”
“She said you sent it to her on the airplane.”
“I did.”
“What was the note?”
I hesitated.
Then I told him.
“Dear Megan, you’ve been borrowing my husband, so I thought you might as well have the jewelry too. One bracelet promised friendship. The other promised marriage. Apparently, neither of you understood the instructions. Love, Kylie.”
For several seconds, Dawson said nothing.
Then he laughed.
Not because what happened was funny.
Because sometimes the truth is so painful and absurd that laughter is the only thing left.
“That’s brutal,” he finally said.
“Maybe.”
“Do you regret it?”
I thought about the airplane.
The hotel lobby.
The messages.
The way Ryan had looked at me when I confronted him.
“No,” I said. “But I don’t want revenge to become my life.”
