Part 2: I discovered my husband was having an affair with my best friend while we were all on the same airplane—and neither of them knew I was there. Instead of confronting them, I sent a small, beautifully wrapped gift to their seats.

“Me too.”

“Is that bad?”

“No.”

I thought.

“You don't have to hate everyone who hurt me.”

He nodded.

“Do you?”

I looked at Lena's frozen face on the screen.

“No.”

Not anymore.

I hated the choice.

Not the dead woman.

That was lighter to carry.

Megan and I did not speak for almost a year.

Then she wrote.

One letter.

I read it.

She did not ask forgiveness.

Good.

She wrote:

Claire,

I spent months trying to understand how I could love you and still do this.

I kept hoping there was an explanation that would make those two facts impossible together.

There isn't.

I loved you.

I betrayed you.

Both are true.

I cried.

Then:

I used Lena's death as an excuse to become close to Ryan.

I used Ryan's grief as an excuse to avoid looking at my marriage.

I used Oliver as an excuse for secret meetings long after those meetings stopped being about him.