The email was ready, just one final touch. She had decided to send it just to her, not to him - yet.
She knew about them, she had known for years, but it wasn't until last night...
He hadn't been home at all! She hadn't minded all the other times, told him it was okay when he apologised for working late. But last night had been their anniversary. He had never missed it, even if he had missed every other day in the week. Never their anniversary.
She had waited up for three hours, getting more and more despondent as time went on.
First she was hopeful, once he had been late as a surprise to pretend he had forgotten and then had taken her out to dinner.
Then she was hurt. Surely he had suspected she knew and that was why he had always remembered their anniversary; to say thank you for being hush hush.
The she had been angry. Hence the email. Telling him she was leaving. He could follow her and she might reconsider. Then she deleted it and wrote one about all the times she had been alone and they had been...together.
But she wouldn't send it to him, just to her. Maybe she would break it off, and he could work on their marriage.
She didn't see the 'one new message' flash until it was too late.
I can't believe he's dead. I'm sorry. I slept with him, and I am so sorry. He was with me, and he was coming home to you when it happened. I just wanted to say I'm sorry.
It was from her best friend. She had hung up the phone when the police called, before the words were out of their mouth. She had known that something was wrong.
After the email, she wouldn't even have a best friend. She decided not to send it.
But her drafts folder was empty.