My wife read the first message. Then the second. Then she scrolled.
They were from March. Corinne had sent them to me late at night, a few days apart. She said she was only telling me because she cared about me. She said my wife had been talking to her about leaving me. She said my wife regretted our wedding. She said if I ever needed someone to talk to, she was always there.
None of it was true. I knew it was not true. But I never showed my wife, because I did not know how to without starting a war with her oldest friend.
My wife put the phone down on the table, face down. She looked at Corinne. Corinne was still holding her glass in the air.
My wife said, very quietly, did you send these?
Corinne said she could explain.
My wife said, you do not need to.
Three years of being the husband threatened by a friendship, and the only thing threatening my marriage had been sitting at our table the entire time.
Corinne set down her glass and left. Nobody stopped her.
My mother in law, who had turned around in her chair, reached across the table and put her hand on the hand of my wife. She said she never liked the way Corinne talked about us. She said she was sorry she had not said anything.
My wife did not cry at the table. She waited until we got home. Then she sat on the edge of our bed and cried for a long time. She said she had known Corinne since the second grade. She said she always thought the little comments were just jokes. She said, how did I not see it?
I told her that is how people like that work. They are good at making you not see it.
She asked me why I never showed her the messages.
I told her the truth. I was afraid she would choose Corinne.
She looked at me like I had said something crazy. She said, you are my husband. It was never a choice.
Corinne sent my wife a long text the next week. It was part apology, part excuse. My wife read it once and did not answer.
The fighting stopped. It stopped almost overnight. It turned out we had not been fighting about each other at all. We had been fighting about her.
A few months later, my wife asked me if I wanted to redo our anniversary dinner. Just the two of us this time. Same restaurant. Same table.
At the end of the meal, she raised her glass. She told a story about our wedding day. About how she was so nervous she almost did not make it down the aisle, and then she saw me standing at the end of it, and every bit of nervous went away.
She said, that is the true version.
I raised my glass back. I said I know. I was there.