While her fiancé was out of town, Mily ordered pizza; she was not expecting a message that would ruin her life, but rather a nice night alone. She had no idea that the delivery would spare her from a terrible marriage. It felt like a nice rhythm living with Jake. I felt that our little flat, with its mismatched cushions and soft covers, was our little refuge. For the last three years, Jake and I have developed a routine around small pleasures. My name is Emily. The most common one was spending our lazy evenings eating pizza from the same neighborhood restaurant. It was customary. As I called our favorite pizza, Jake would peruse the movie selections. The delivery man, Tom, knew everyone of us by name.
His visits followed a strict schedule, even down to the happy “How is it going?” that reverberated through our tiny foyer. But tonight, I was alone myself. The quiet was louder than normal since Jake was out of town on business. I placed a single order for my typical pepperoni and extra cheese pizza. The doorbell rang, and Naturally, it was Tom, but there was something strange about him this evening. As he handed me the pizza box, his hands appeared to tremble a little and his smile did not extend to his eyes.
“Evelyn, good evening.” Is Jake not present this evening? With a tiny tremble in his voice, Tom questioned. “No, it is just me tonight,” I said, attempting to seem happy. Tom turned on his heel and nodded, walking away far too soon. I was irritated by his actions as I closed the door. Was he alright? I brushed the worry aside and brought the warm package into the kitchen. The air was filled with the comforting smell of tomato sauce and garlic, which usually felt like a hug.
However, my heart skipped a beat as I opened the package. There was a note that said, “He is not who you think,” written with a black Sharpie over the inside lid of the box. Examine the camera on your door. There was a sudden chilly rush of dread over me, and the pizza did not seem so good. As I placed the box down, my hands shook, and the happy noise of the apartment was replaced by an approaching quietness. On that camera, what was I going to discover? I shook my hand trying to operate the iPad that operated our door camera.
My spine tingled after reading the note in the pizza box, and the seconds it took to open the app felt endless. With each day I swiped back through, my breath caught as I delved into the camera’s history. Then I caught sight of it. At our door, Jake, my Jake, greeted a woman. This was no ordinary woman, though; as she gave him a bottle of wine, she burst out laughing. My heart fell. I kept scrolling. Another day, another woman, this one carrying a stack of movies. It appeared that Jake was always entertained when I was away. Various women, each visit amply recorded by the hilariously placed camera for our protection.
