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movie. While flipping through the movie selections, he clears his throat. "So your mom planned a cruise for next week?"
    "Yeah, she said that she spoke to you about it. Will you be able to take time off?"
    "I think so. I have to move a few things around, but I should be able to make it happen."
    Surprised by his response, I offer a smile. "Great. It’ll be nice to have my family together. We haven't done much since my dad died." He nods, not taking his eyes off the television.
    We settle on watching The Hangover . We've both seen the movie quite a few times, but it never gets old. He sits at one end of the couch. Lying down at the other end, I rest my feet on his legs. Throughout the movie I can’t help but think about the TracFone and what he could possibly be hiding from me. I keep glancing over at him and he looks as distracted as I am. A few times our eyes meet and we grin or quickly look away. I’m trying not to look like something is up, but it's hard.
    Once the movie ends, Rich leans over and rubs my arm. "Can I take you to the bedroom?" he asks, grinning. Quite surprised by his words―it's not Friday after all―I grab his hand and we stroll upstairs.
    After taking our clothes off, Rich turns off the bedside light and I get in bed. He lies down next to me and kisses my neck. Then he reaches my mouth, occupying it, while I try to get the text messages out of my mind. He brushes the hair away from my ear. "Are you okay?" he asks, noticing that I’m pre-occupied in thought.
    "Yes, of course," I say, breathy, and then pull him in for a kiss. All the while, I try to remain focused on what we’re doing―what I'm supposed to be doing.

Chapter Three
    Sunday
    April 14, 2013
    1:07 a.m.
     
    Unable to fall asleep, I lie in bed listening to the sound of Rich snoring. I venture downstairs and head to the kitchen for a glass of water. Passing by the office, I notice that he left the light on. Reaching in to flip the switch, I see his iPhone sitting on his desk. I contemplate if it’s a good time to search through his contacts and messages.
    Hearing him snore upstairs, I rush to his desk and grab the phone. Rushing back out, I hurry down the hallway to the bathroom. After shutting the door behind me, I slide myself down to the floor and press the power button. Anticipating the home screen to appear, my finger freezes in place. I stare down in disbelief. The screen asks for a combination. He put a lock on his phone? No, no, no. He can't have his phone locked. Why does he have his phone locked?
    I press a variety of number combinations, hoping that one of them will unlock the phone. But none of them do. Laying the phone down on the floor, I stare at the wall. How am I supposed to find out anything now? "Damn it," I say a bit too loud.
    Getting up from the floor, I bend down and grab the phone. After slowly opening the bathroom door, I look out cautiously. All I hear is the sound of Rich snoring upstairs. I tip-toe back to the office and put the phone on his desk in the exact position that it was found.
    After turning the light off, I meander to the kitchen and grab a bottle of water from the refrigerator. I stand at the patio door, looking up at the night sky. Despite wanting to look at the rest of the text messages on the TracFone, I convince myself that it’s too risky since it's upstairs in my bedroom closet. I decide to go to bed and wait until tomorrow instead.
    • • • •
    Waking up to the sound of the front door closing, I turn and look at the clock on my nightstand, it’s five o’clock. Interested to see where he could be headed off to on a Sunday morning this early, I get up and stumble downstairs. Looking out the window, I see his SUV in the driveway, which means that he went for a run.
    I head back upstairs and snuggle back into the bed. I pull the covers up to my ear, close my eyes, but sleep doesn't come. My mind starts racing again. Turning over on my back, I think about grabbing the TracFone. His runs