Your phone buzzes on the nightstand — her name lights up the screen. You already know it's not about dinner plans. The message loads slow, one image at a time, and your stomach tightens before your eyes even focus.

She's in the hotel bathroom mirror, his hand visible at her hip, her expression carrying that specific satisfaction she reserves for moments she knows you'll obsess over. The timestamp reads 2:47 PM. A Tuesday.

You read the caption twice. *Thought you should see this.* The cursor blinks in the reply box while your fingers stay completely still, deciding what version of yourself responds.