The Recording Under My Bed

The home party house was thick with smoke, colorful LED strips twisting into light trails across the ceiling. I linked my arm with Luke's, sitting in the corner of the sofa, watching him and his childhood friends clinking beer cans and joking around. Sarah Xavier walked over holding a wine glass, droplets of condensation slipping through her fingers. She was wearing the same strappy dress I'd worn last birthday, a cheap rhinestone brooch pinned to the neckline, her teardrop mole flashing wildly every time she smiled. "Sophia, do you and Luke usually... get all lovey-dovey like this?" She dragged out the tone, the ending laced with a challenge. Her gaze swept across everyone there, deliberately sharpening the malice in her voice. I pinched Luke's sleeve with my fingers, just as I was about to speak. She pulled out her mobile phone and quickly tapped twice. The suggestive sound of heavy breathing suddenly exploded in the noisy room, mixed with car horns outside. Every syllable sounded like a rusty needle stabbing into my ears. That was my voice, along with Luke's drunken whispers. It was a private moment from our wedding night. "Guess where I recorded this?" Sarah Xavier smiled smugly, the curve of her mouth sharp like a little knife. "Right under your bedroom bed. Luke told me to hide there and wait until you guys were done—said he wanted to surprise me." The whole room fell dead silent, the air conditioner's whoosh suddenly sounding way too loud. Some people looked away at the paintings, others tightened their grip on their beer cans and whispered. Luke suddenly jumped up, his knee hitting the coffee table with a dull thud. He snatched the phone and turned off the screen. "Sarah, don't be ridiculous. We're just friends." His excuse sounded weak and empty; his eyes darted around, avoiding mine. "Friends?"I cut him off, my voice shaking uncontrollably. Ice-cold tingles ran from my fingertips up my arm to my chest, and a wave of humiliation crashed over me. "Hiding under the bed to listen to us, recording it, and then playing it for everyone—this is what you call a friend?" I stared into his dodging eyes, my stomach twisting, acid burning up my throat. A jug of ice water sat on the coffee table, just pulled from the fridge, frost covering its sides. I reached out and splashed the water hard over the two of them. The ice water ran down Luke's white shirt, spreading a dark stain across his chest. Sarah's camisole was soaked and stuck to her skin, revealing the edge of her gray underwear—she looked completely helpless. "Luke, I'm divorcing you." I dropped those words, my fingers white from gripping so hard. I grabbed the canvas bag on the couch, didn't even zip it up, and stormed out of the home party house without looking back. The evening breeze outside, carrying the chill of early autumn, hit my face like a block of ice. I sobered up a little, but the tears wouldn't stop falling, cold and sharp against my collarbone. Luke and I met in school, dated for three years, and have been married for one. I used to think he was a good man—I remember telling him I hated cilantro and how he surprised me with a rose cake on our anniversary. But I never expected he'd let his female friend do something so ridiculous and shameless. Turns out all that tenderness and care was covering up betrayals no one knew about. I took a cab back to our empty home; the motion sensor light by the door flickered on and off. Sitting on the cold floor, staring at our wedding dress photo on the wall, all I felt was bitter, painful irony. I don't know how long I've been sitting there; the cold from the floor seeped right into my bones. The door lock clicked, and Luke walked into the hallway, reeking of booze and smoke. He crouched in front of me; the booze smell made me turn my head away. He reached out to touch my hair. "Sophia, I'm sorry. I know I messed up." "Sarah's a blunt one, but she means no harm. Don't take it to heart." His apology sounded casual, like he was brushing off something trivial. "No harm?" I looked up, my voice ice-cold. "Luke, if I had my guy best friend hiding under the bed recording you, could you seriously say he didn't mean any harm?"