It was on the table, she had it written on a matchbox in cursive:
"I fucked someone that wasn't you.
we were in the bath, our knees sticking out; islands in the soapy water. In the thick, heady steam I was told no one in the world kissed like me & that my eyes had earths spinning in them, making everyone dizzy. No one told me breathing steam was different than breathing air. I think it was the wet skin. I think I called out your name. I'm sorry. I'm sorry."
I sipped my coffee. It tasted like shit.
She never wrote in cursive.