The thread went back six months. Six. Months. Not an affair — I want to be clear about that right away, because the first thing I searched for was the one thing that would have been easier to deal with. There was no photograph. There was no "I miss you in my bed." It was something quieter and in a way more disorienting. It was two people who had clearly been in love at some point talking about our wedding like it was a funeral. Caroline was, as I'd learn later, Beckett's ex from law school — someone I'd vaguely known existed, someone he had mentioned twice in passing over three years together, someone he had, specifically, told me "didn't really matter" when I asked. In the messages, she mattered. She mattered more than I had mattered for, apparently, the entire length of our engagement. I read the thread front to back. And somewhere around the third month, I started shaking.