I feel myself getting teary again just as Lainey rounds the corner in a short red robe. Her wet hair is wrapped in a towel, turban-style. She stops in her tracks when she sees Tyson.
“What the hell?” she says, grinning. “Why didn’t you tell me you were coming?”
“I know how much you love surprises,” he says. “Speaking of surprises, I heard about your ambush plan.”
“It’s good, isn’t it?”
“I don’t hate it…and it is probably easier to extricate Hannah from a restaurant than his house.”
“Exactly,” Lainey says. “And I also want to stick him with the big, fat bill.”
“That’s so petty,” Tyson says.
“Yep.” Lainey grins proudly.
“What happened to ‘when they go low’?” Tyson says.
“When they go low, I go lower.” Lainey laughs.
“Okay. But remember, I don’t want to make a scene,” I say.
“No scene,” Lainey says. “Soft voices. All smiles.”
“So what are we going to do, exactly?” Tyson asks Lainey. “We sit down, toast the happy couple. And then—BAM. Hannah drops the bomb that she knows he cheated?”
“Something like that,” Lainey replies. “You can refine the script. Maybe infuse it with some sort of cross-examination technique leading up to a gotcha moment.”
Tyson nods, then looks at me. “What if—and I’m just spitballing here—you break off the engagement without telling him why?”
“So I wouldn’t tell him what I saw?”
“Correct. You’d just tell him that it’s over, and that you have your reasons.”
“What’s the point of that?” I ask.
“It’s always an advantage to hold your cards close,” Tyson says. “Knowledge is power.”
I mull this over as Lainey shakes her head. “I don’t like that plan. She has to bust him. It’ll be so satisfying.”
“In the moment, sure. She’d have instant gratification,” Tyson says. “But long term, the wondering what happened will wreck him.”
“He’ll want a reason,” I say.
“Tough. Tell him you had a change of heart…. That you just aren’t ‘feeling it’ anymore,” Tyson says. “Be vague.”
“He won’t buy that.”
“He won’t have a choice if that’s all you give him.”
“But won’t he know that I know?”
“He might suspect it, yes. But he won’t know for sure. And he can’t very well ask you if it’s because he cheated, now, can he?”
“Oh. Wow. True,” I say.
“And the sense of rejection will feel exponentially greater if you don’t provide a concrete reason.”
“Okay. So when would I do this? In the middle of dinner? With y’all at the table? Or would I ask for a moment alone?”
“That’s up to you,” Tyson says.
“I think it’s better to have an exact plan,” Lainey says. “Or else you might not go through with it.”
“Oh, she’ll go through with it,” Tyson says. “She has to.”
He gives me a stern but compassionate look just as my phone buzzes and a text comes in from Grady, telling me that we have a reservation for seven o’clock at Le Bilboquet.
OK, I text back. But do you think you could change it to four people? Tyson just arrived.
Tyson? he says.
He’s annoyed. He’s always been jealous of my friendship with Tyson. It has stressed me out in the past, but now I relish it.
Yes, I type back. Such a wonderful surprise, isn’t it?
—
I don’t think I’ve ever been as nervous as I am getting out of our Uber at the valet stand in front of the restaurant. It doesn’t help that I feel way overdressed. When we check in with the hostess ten minutes ahead of our reservation, I tell myself that it’s better than looking as wan and sad as I feel.
