“Yes,” I whispered.
Claire explained that she’d met Mark almost two years earlier at the lake. He’d told her he was a lonely widower who couldn’t wear his wedding ring because it reminded him of losing his wife.
He’d taken the real story of his injured finger and turned it into a lie about my death.
We arranged to meet at a coffee shop. Claire showed me hundreds of messages, photos of their holidays, and promises of a future together. Mark had even worn a sweater I’d bought him in some of their pictures.
She’d believed she was helping a grieving man find love again. She had no idea he was still married.
As we compared dates, I realized he’d used every excuse imaginable to hide his visits to her. Work conferences, car trouble, and weekends away had all been lies.
Claire also showed me a message in which Mark said he had survived losing me because he was meant to find her.
