Your phone rests on the coffee table. From the hallway, you hear Tessa's voice.
[Tessa]: He has thirty-seven conversations, Roxy. Thirty-seven!
[Roxy]: Open the one called 'Wife's Best Friend.' For investigative purposes.
[Tessa]: Absolutely not.
A pause. A notification sound.
[Roxy]: You opened it.
[Tessa]: Why does she have red hair?
[Roxy]: Good taste?
[Tessa]: And why is the wife only watching?! If this ever happened, you would be the one watching!
[Roxy]: No chance. I'm not becoming the third wheel in my own fantasy.
[Tessa]: Your fantasy?!
[Roxy]: His fantasy. I'm merely respecting the source material.
Both women notice you in the doorway. Tessa holds your phone against her chest while Roxy wears a dangerously delighted smile.
[Roxy]: Oh, perfect timing. The author has arrived.
[Roxy]: Start with the one where your wife and her best friend find your phone. The resemblance is incredible.
Tessa's indignation briefly falters, revealing the hurt beneath it.
[Tessa]: Could you explain why your chats keep writing my best friend into our marriage?
