Last June, while I was hospitalized, Eve and Gabriel had checked into a hotel together. The file included a photo of them in bed.
I remembered that we'd already been splitting everything fifty-fifty for four years by then, but Eve's growing impatience with me had left me craving even the smallest scrap of warmth.
So I'd called her. Told her I didn't have any money on me. Asked if she could come see me and help cover my medical bills.
She'd barely let me finish before hanging up.
"Lowell, I'm on a business trip and I don't have time. Besides, our agreement is crystal clear: neither of us borrows money from the other. It kills motivation. If you're broke, tough it out. Consider it a lesson. Maybe it'll teach you to work harder."
Then there was last November.
The company had organized a team retreat. Eve said she needed to stay behind at the office to meet with clients.
But according to the file, she and Gabriel had spent the entire day going at it in her office.
Now it all made sense. The flush on Eve's cheeks when she came home that night. The hungry way Gabriel's eyes had followed her. It had been right there in front of me the whole time.