In revenge, I became his brother's secret lover. Until his out-of-control kiss...-4

Cafe Corner
I met Jason downtown, at a cafe tucked away in a building's shadow. Three PM, deserted. I chose the deepest booth, velvet seats swallowing me. Coffee aroma hung thick in the heavy silence, broken only by melting ice cracking nearby and my own pounding heart. Jason arrived ten minutes late. Pushing the door open, a cool breeze entered.
His treasured old camera hung around his neck, hair tousled—the photographer fresh from a shoot. "Sarah," he greeted, light but teasing, as if this were routine. "What brings you out? Where’s Dave?" Signaling the waiter, he ordered an Americano, his ease clashing with my tension. Watching him, my fingers tightened on the cooling cup. My rehearsed accusation stuck in my throat; how to shatter this fragile peace?

The Phone Slid Forward
I didn’t smile. My heart hammered against my ribs. Throat tight, fingers cold, my composure crumbling. I inhaled deeply, summoning all my strength, and slid my phone across the table. Its screen burned—every word a brand. Screenshots. Explicit flirtations. Hotel confirmations.

A blurred but recognizable photo: David’s profile, the woman’s smile. Every image, every line, an epitaph on my marriage. Jason’s smile froze. The ease drained, replaced by shock, disbelief. He stared, transfixed, as if trying to shatter the glass. Reading slowly, his fingers curled, knuckles white. His Adam's apple bobbed, swallowing something bitter. Gentle background music turned jarring; the air between us solidified into ice.