MY SISTER WAS TELLING A STRANGER ABOUT JASON’S SECRET APARTMENT
My stomach twisted when I recognized Sarah’s voice from around the corner at the coffee shop. The low murmur wasn’t familiar, but then Sarah’s laugh, light and sharp, cut through the cafe noise. I froze, clutching my purse strap until my knuckles ached, hiding behind the towering display of local art. Hearing her voice here, with someone I didn’t know, felt instantly wrong.
A wave of cold air conditioning washed over me, raising goosebumps. I strained to hear over the barista’s grinder. “…keeping it from her… the extra place in Northwood.” The words hit me like a physical blow. *Jason* has a place in Northwood? Why would he keep that a secret? My blood ran ice-cold thinking about it.
The stranger’s voice was too low, a deep rumble I couldn’t decipher, but Sarah’s reply was clear, laced with frustration. “You think telling her now would even help *anything*? After everything he’s put her through already?” She was talking about *me*. The stale smell of burnt coffee suddenly made me feel sick.
She gestured vaguely towards the front of the shop, towards where I was standing just moments ago. “It’s not fair to her,” she muttered, her gaze flicking nervously around the room. “She deserves the truth before… well, before it’s too late.”
The stranger suddenly leaned forward, his gaze locking onto mine.
👇 *Full story continued in the comments…*His gaze locked onto mine, and in that instant, my carefully constructed invisibility shattered. He didn’t react with surprise, not really, more like recognition – the kind that comes after seeing a photograph. His eyes widened fractionally, then he nodded almost imperceptibly towards Sarah.
Sarah’s head whipped around, following his silent cue. Her eyes met mine, and the color drained from her face. The sharp laugh was gone, replaced by a look of utter dread. “Oh god,” she whispered, the sound barely audible over the machine.
I stepped out from behind the display, the act of moving feeling stiff and unnatural. My heart hammered against my ribs. “Sarah?” My voice was flat, devoid of the question it should have held, already knowing the betrayal twisting in my gut. “Northwood? Jason has an apartment in Northwood?”
She flinched as if I’d struck her. The stranger at the table, a man with kind, weary eyes and a neatly trimmed beard, rose smoothly. He extended a hand towards me. “I’m Mark. Sarah’s been talking to me.”
Talking to him? About *Jason’s secret apartment*? And about *me*? “Talking to you about what, exactly?” I directed the question at Sarah, ignoring Mark’s offered hand. “About keeping secrets from me? About how it’s ‘not fair to her’?”
Sarah wrung her hands, glancing nervously between me and Mark. “Look, it’s not what you think—”
“Isn’t it?” I cut her off, my voice rising slightly, attracting a few curious glances. “Because it sounds exactly like you knew Jason was hiding something big from me, and you were talking to… Mark… about it.”
Mark intervened calmly. “Sarah came to me a few weeks ago. She had some concerns.”
“Concerns about what?” I demanded, turning to him.
Sarah finally found her voice, though it was shaky. “About Jason. About… things. After everything before…” She trailed off, referring to the difficult patches Jason and I had navigated, the ones that had chipped away at my trust but never quite broken it. “I just had a feeling. A really bad one. I started looking into something, and I found a lead about a property in Northwood.”
“You found a lead?” I repeated, bewildered. “Why wouldn’t you just ask him?”
Sarah looked miserable. “Because I didn’t think he’d tell me the truth. Not after… well, you know.” She lowered her voice. “I hired Mark. He’s a private investigator.”
The revelation landed heavily. Sarah, hiring a private investigator to look into Jason? The idea was surreal, horrifying. “You think he’s doing something that requires a private investigator?”
Mark spoke again. “I confirmed the property. It’s a small, nondescript apartment above a convenience store in Northwood. Registered in a shell company name, but I traced it back. Jason is the leaseholder.”
My breath hitched. It was real. The cold air conditioning seemed to penetrate deeper now. “But… why?” I looked from Mark to Sarah. “Why hide it? What is he doing there?”
Sarah stepped closer, her voice softer now, laden with guilt and fear. “We don’t think he’s… you know, seeing someone.” That was the first fear that had sprung to mind, the obvious one. Hearing Sarah dismiss it offered a flicker of relief, quickly extinguished by the implications of what else it could be. “Mark found some documents inside. Bank statements, old business records… it looks like Jason’s in serious financial trouble again. Worse than before. And he’s been moving money around, hiding assets. The apartment… it might be a place he uses, or maybe where he’s keeping things he doesn’t want traced. We think he’s been trying to disappear funds, maybe preparing for something.”
“Preparing for what?” My mind raced, grasping at possibilities, all of them terrifying. Bankruptcy? Running away?
Sarah’s eyes filled with tears. “We think… we think he might be planning to leave. Or worse, that he’s already involved in something illegal because of the debt.”
The world outside the coffee shop blurred. Jason, the man I lived with, loved, building a secret life just miles away, not for an affair, but for a deception perhaps even more profound and damaging. Sarah’s words, “before it’s too late,” echoed in my ears. Too late for what? Too late to save him? Too late to save myself?
I sank onto a nearby empty chair, the coffee shop noise receding to a dull roar. Mark and Sarah stood before me, two unexpected messengers of a truth I hadn’t wanted to hear, a truth that felt like the floor disappearing beneath me. Jason’s secret apartment wasn’t just a hidden space; it was a physical manifestation of the lies he was building, a structure of deceit that now threatened to collapse my entire world.