The first time Daniel kissed me was in his kitchen.
He'd told me his wife was out of town on a business trip. She wouldn't be back until Sunday.
I know. It sounds bad already.
Daniel was a client at the company I worked for. We'd known each other for almost a year. He was 41, a few years older than me, good-looking, and honestly, really thoughtful.
He always remembered that I hated onions. Once, when I was stuck working late, he even brought me dinner.
We'd been flirting for about two months.
And yes, I knew he was married.
Looking back, I don't even know what I was thinking.
When he invited me over for drinks, I actually changed my dress three times before leaving the house.
So I'm not going to pretend I had no idea where things might go.
We were on our second glass of wine when he suddenly asked, "Do you think I'm a bad guy?"
I laughed and said, "If you really cared about that, you'd be sending me home right now."
Instead, he walked over and kissed me.
And I let him.
We stayed in the kitchen for a while, talking and kissing. He had his hand around my waist, and I was nervous, but I didn't want to leave either.
Then I heard a little clink behind us.
I turned around.
There were two wine glasses on the counter, and a small charm with a Chinese symbol on it.
I picked it up.
"What's this?"
"It's my wife's," Daniel said.
"She's into this kind of stuff?"
"Yeah. She used to love it."
I asked what the symbol meant.
He said something about protection and staying connected.
Then he took it from me and set it back down.
I casually asked, "How long have you guys been married?"
"Almost ten years."
He got quiet for a second.
I figured he was feeling guilty about what we were doing.
But then he kissed me again.
Around one in the morning, I told him I should go.
He wrapped his arms around me from behind and asked me to stay.
I said I couldn't.
He laughed. "What, afraid you'll fall in love with me?"
I said, "I'm more afraid of your wife."
He laughed too.
"Relax. She won't be back until Sunday."
That line really bothers me now.
At the time, it didn't.
The next morning, I'd barely gotten to work when I got a text from a number I didn't recognize.
"Have fun last night?"
I almost dropped my phone.
My first thought was that his wife had found out.
I called Daniel immediately.
When I told him about the text, he went completely silent.
I sent him a screenshot.
All he said was, "Don't reply. Let's meet tonight."
I was furious.
He was the married one, and somehow I was the one sitting at work freaking out.
We met at a hotel bar that evening.
Daniel looked awful. Like he hadn't slept at all.
Before we'd even ordered anything, he asked, "Did you go upstairs last night?"
"No."
"Are you sure?"
"Daniel, I didn't even go near the stairs!"
He pulled out his phone and showed me a picture of his bedroom.
There was a long black hair on one of the pillows.
I knew exactly what he was implying.
"You think that's mine?"
He said he didn't know.
That made me even angrier.
"Isn't your wife supposed to be back on Sunday? What exactly are you so scared of?"
He stared down at the table for what felt like forever.
Then he said,
"Emily died three years ago."
I just stared at him.
"Who?"
"My wife."
I honestly thought he was messing with me.
"Daniel, you literally told me she was on a business trip!"
"I know. I'm sorry."
"You said she'd be back Sunday!"
"I know."
I didn't know what to say.
I mean, the night before, he'd talked about her like she was still alive.
The charm was hers.
She used to love that kind of thing.
She'd be home Sunday.
He'd made it sound like she was just away for the weekend.
Daniel told me that after Emily died, he'd never moved out of their house. Most of her things were still exactly where she'd left them.
He'd tried dating since then, but it never really worked out.
Apparently, a couple of women who'd been to his house had told him they'd seen a blonde woman there.
Usually standing near the kitchen doorway.
At that point, I was seriously starting to freak out.
I'd come there thinking I was about to get caught sleeping with a married man.
Now he was telling me his wife had been dead for three years.
I was about to ask him why on earth he'd lie about something like that when my phone buzzed again.
Same number.
This time, it was a photo.
I opened it, and I swear I felt my whole body go cold.
It was taken in Daniel's kitchen the night before.
He was kissing me.
His arm was around my waist. My eyes were closed.
The picture had been taken from the kitchen doorway.
But there was nobody else in that house last night.
I handed Daniel my phone.
His face went pale.
"Emily used to stand right there and take pictures of me," he said.
I felt sick.
"Daniel, please stop."
But he was already tearing up.
He told me Emily had been a really kind person. When she got sick, one of the things she worried about most was what would happen to him after she was gone.
She'd actually told him that if he met someone he liked someday, she wanted him to give it a chance.
She didn't want him spending the rest of his life alone.
But he'd always felt like moving on would somehow mean betraying her.
Neither of us said anything for a minute.
Then he quietly said, "If it really is Emily... maybe she just wanted to see if I was doing okay."
I had absolutely no idea what to say to that.
Then my phone buzzed again.
Same number.
Just one sentence.
"He's finally smiling again."
I sat there staring at it, my palms sweating.
Daniel asked who it was.
I handed him the phone.
He looked at the message for a long time.
Then his eyes started filling with tears.
And suddenly I remembered that little charm I'd picked up in his kitchen the night before.
It was just a tiny thing, but I remembered how strangely he'd acted when I touched it.
I still don't know if any of that had anything to do with what happened.
But if those messages really were from Emily...
Was she there in the kitchen when I picked up that charm?
