Confrontation

‘I hope you like soy garlic fried chicken. They ran out of seaweed…’ Kieran bounded into the bedroom. ‘Honey, what’s wrong?’ It was too late for me to hide his phone, which chose that moment to vibrate again. The screen lit up. ‘Do you like the selfies? I can send you more. Or we can videochat. Can I call you now?’ ‘Honey, give me the phone.’ Kieran had to pry my fingers, one by one. He scrolled through the previous messages. The bag of fragrant-smelling fried chicken was forgotten. He swore. ‘How the hell did she get my number?’ His voice contained the icy edge of anger. ‘She probably took a peek at my phone.’ I stared at the floor. Kieran swiped and tapped with a furious speed. ‘I’m deleting these. And blocking her number.’ ‘I’m sorry.’ I sank onto the bed. ‘What?’ His head snapped up. ‘Hey, hey, it has nothing to do with me.’ Kieran laid his hand over mine. ‘I don’t understand it.’ I scrubbed my face with one hand as if that could wash away the disgusting memory of the texts. ‘I don