“Did Ruth know Michael was gone?”
“Yes.”
“How?”
“She followed your family online.”
A chill passed through me.
“Is that how you recognized me?”
David nodded.
“There were photographs inside the box. One showed you and Michael at Rebecca’s wedding. Another was taken at an anniversary dinner.”
I stood abruptly.
“You found me wandering through Valletta with an upside-down map, and you already knew exactly who I was.”
“Yes.”
“You laughed and asked whether it was my first visit to Malta.”
“Yes.”
“You pretended we were strangers.”
“I planned to introduce myself and give you the envelope.”
“But you didn’t.”
“No.”
“Why?”
David looked toward the harbor.
“Because you smiled at me.”
I waited.
“That sounds foolish now,” he continued. “But for months, you had only been a name written on an envelope. Then I saw you standing in the street, completely lost, laughing at yourself. Suddenly, you were a real person.”
“So you invited me for coffee.”
“I told myself it would only be coffee.”
“Then breakfast.”
“Yes.”
“Gozo.”
“Yes.”
“Dinner tonight.”
His voice became quieter.
“Yes.”
Every memory from the week changed as he answered.
The coffee that felt spontaneous.
The ferry ride where he held my hand when the deck shifted.
The afternoon he bought me lemon ice and gently brushed sugar from my thumb.
The evening beside the sea when he said he was glad I had chosen to say yes.
I believed fate had introduced us.
But David had recognized me.
He had followed me.
And he had hidden the reason.
“You used me.”
“At first, I wanted answers.”
“What answers?”
“I wanted to know whether Michael had damaged your life the way Ruth’s secret damaged mine.”
I stared at him.
“Did I look damaged?”
“No.”
“Were you disappointed?”
