Second Thoughts.

I shouldn't have replied. That thought followed me around for the rest of Monday. Every time I looked at my phone, I wondered whether I'd made a mistake opening a door that had been firmly shut for twenty-five years. Curiosity had gotten the better of me, but now that I'd answered, there was no pretending I hadn't.

Late that afternoon, my phone buzzed again. It was Daniel.

Thank you for replying, Emily. I know this is a lot to ask, but could we meet? I'm only in town for a few days. I'm staying at the Willow Creek Motel just outside town. If you could come by tomorrow, I'd really appreciate it.

I read the message twice. Then a third time. My stomach tightened. A motel? Seriously?

I actually laughed, though there wasn't much humour in it. "You're kidding me."

After twenty-five years, the first thing he suggested was meeting at the motel where he was staying. Did he honestly think I was going to walk into a motel room with a man I'd slept with in college? Had he contacted me because he thought we could pick up where we'd left off? The more I thought about it, the angrier I became. Maybe I'd been naïve. Maybe this wasn't about anything important at all. Maybe he was just another middle-aged man looking to relive his youth.

I opened Messenger. Without typing a single word... I blocked him.

"There," I muttered, tossing my phone onto the kitchen bench. "Problem solved."

It wasn't.

I’d surprised Jay by initiating sex the night before. Perhaps out of secret guilt at keeping things from him. I’d tried to keep my husband in my mind during it but Dan kept slipping in instead. That time drunk after a track meet in an upstairs bedroom at the frat party… Being reminded of my hot past had made me dirtier than I’d become with Jay. He’d enjoyed that.

The next morning, while I floated in the pool, Daniel's message kept replaying in my head.

I really need to talk to you.

Not...

I've been thinking about you.

Not...

I'd love to catch up.

I tried to convince myself I'd done the right thing. Meeting a man in his motel room wasn't just inappropriate—it was stupid. Every crime documentary I'd watched over the past ten years agreed with me. Still... something didn't fit. Daniel had never been pushy in college. If anything, he'd been quieter than most of the guys we knew. Thoughtful. Almost shy. If he hadn’t drunk so much that night I’m sure nothing would have happened at all.

And why wait twenty-five years? If this was about rekindling an old fling, surely he wouldn't have left it until we were both pushing fifty. The whole thing felt... wrong. Not dangerous. Just... wrong.

By lunchtime, I'd stopped thinking about what he'd asked. I was thinking about why he'd asked. That afternoon, while folding towels I'd already folded once, I found myself wondering whether I'd overreacted. He didn't know my life. He didn't know Jay and I were still happily married. He didn't know what a motel invitation sounded like to a woman in my position. Maybe, to him, it was simply the easiest place to meet. He was staying there. Perhaps he wasn't familiar with the town anymore. Perhaps he hadn't even considered how it would look.

Or perhaps... whatever he needed to say was so difficult that he'd simply blurted out the practical solution without thinking.

By evening, my certainty had disappeared. I picked up my phone. It took less than ten seconds to unblock him. Then I stared at the blank message box for nearly ten minutes.

Finally, I typed. I'm sorry I blocked you. Suggesting your motel caught me off guard, and I wasn't comfortable with it. I hesitated before continuing. If what you have to say really is important, I'll come by tomorrow afternoon. But I'm only staying long enough to hear what you have to say. Nothing more.

I hit send before I could change my mind. His reply arrived less than a minute later.

I understand completely. I'm sorry. I should have explained. I only suggested the motel because I'm staying here until Friday and didn't know the area anymore.

Another message followed almost immediately.

Thank you for giving me the chance. I promise you, Emily... this isn't what you think it is.

I read those last seven words several times.

This isn't what you think it is.

For the first time since his message had appeared on my phone, I believed him. Which somehow frightened me even more. Because if this wasn't about the past then whatever Daniel wanted had to be something much worse.