Chapter 1
The night before my wedding to Dylan Degnan, I found his secret phone.
It was filled with voice recordings–from a woman.
I didn’t question him. I just stared at him.
That night, Dylan didn’t sleep with me. The next morning, he said, “I’m her only emergency contact. That’s all.”
We’d been in love for seven years. I couldn’t bring myself to give up on him just because of these recordings.
So I put on the wedding dress, and the ceremony went on as planned.
But halfway through, Dylan’s colleague suddenly called. “Mr. Degnan, Ms. Hayde found out about your wedding and attempted suicide!”
The wedding ring hovered in midair, then dropped to the ground.
Dylan rushed out of the venue.
In tears, I shouted behind him, “Dylan! If you walk out of that door, we’re done for good!”
He paused–but only for a second–then walked straight out without the slightest hesitation.
Listening to the recordings on his phone, my heart clenched.
There were no flirty chats, no intimate photos–only a series of voice recordings, all from the same woman.
“They all say I’m a freak. You’re the only one willing to listen to me.”
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“Mr. Degnan, please don’t go. What will I do without you?”
“I see blood, so much blood. Please come quickly…”
Then Dylan’s voice rang out–low and steady.
He was gently comforting her.
“Don’t be afraid. Listen to me, take a deep breath.”
“I’m right here. I won’t leave.”
“Trust me. It’s all over now.”
The recordings spanned a wide range of lengths, from just over ten minutes to a few hours.
I checked the timestamps. The earliest was from three months ago, right after the bank hostage crisis.
The latest was from this afternoon.
Dylan and I had been together for seven years, from our college days and
into our careers.
I was a psychologist, and he was a crisis negotiator.
We were colleagues and also soulmates.
I thought I knew him inside and out.
I placed the phone in front of Dylan.
I didn’t ask anything–I just looked at him calmly.
He had just stepped out of the shower, hair still dripping.
He picked up the phone, opened the list of recordings, and looked.
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completely unfazed.
It seemed that he had never thought of hiding this from me.
That night, we didn’t have sex.
We lay back to back in silence.
The next morning, before the makeup artist knocked, he hugged me from behind.
“Her name is Mandy Hayde. She was one of the hostages from the bank incident three months ago.
“She has severe PTSD, and I’m her only emergency contact.”
My heart sank.
Then he added, “You know the nature of my work, Emilia. Just give me a little more time. I’ll take care of it. I won’t let it affect our life.”
For seven years, he kept every promise he made.
He said he’d build a home for us, so he bought a place downtown, in the best part of the city.
He said I was the only one he wanted to spend the rest of his life with, so he turned down every woman trying to get close to him.
I believed him.
I put on the wedding dress, took my father’s arm, and walked step by step toward him.
The officiant’s voice echoed solemnly through the hall. “Dylan Degnan, do you take Emilia Acosta to be your lawfully wedded wife… for as long as you both shall live?”
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I looked at him, my heart pounding.
All he had to do was say the two words.
“Id-”
But right then, his phone vibrated.
It was a call from his colleague, voice panicked and breaking.
“Mr. Degnan, we have a serious problem! Mandy’s on the roof of the bank where the hostage case happened. She’s threatening to jump! She said since you’re getting married, she’s going to end her life! She won’t talk to anyone but you! You need to come. Now!”
The ring in Dylan’s hand hovered just above my fingertips.
Then, it clattered straight to the floor.
Without a word, he turned and dashed for the door.
Gasps rippled through the guests like a wave.
In tears, I shouted behind him, “Dylan! If you walk out of that door, we’re done! For good!”
He paused, just for a second.
Then he pulled open the door and vanished from my life without any hesitation.
