The loosely folded note fell from her unzipped hand bag as they walked toward the car. She didn’t notice him pick it up. He should have returned it to her, but he put it in his pocket.
He wished he hadn’t.
His skin turned cold as he read the note.
He could never unread those words and he could never love her after reading them. He didn’t know this woman with the poison pen and he didn’t want to.
He wanted to return the note without her seeing him. Without her ever knowing that he knew what he now knew.