Tropical Lies

Maria sat at the edge of the infinity pool, her legs dangling in the cool water while the Hawaiian sunset bled across the sky. The papaya she'd bought from the roadside stand earlier sat uneaten on the table, its orange flesh already beginning to soften in the humidity. Just like her marriage.

Her iPhone buzzed against the table—David again. Six missed calls, twelve texts. He'd never been this persistent before, not unless he wanted something. This time, he wanted to know why she'd disconnected the security camera in their bedroom.

Maria had discovered the tiny camera three days ago, hidden behind their framed wedding photograph. The cable ran through the wall, connecting to a server in his home office. David claimed it was for security. Maria knew better.

She'd been hired to spy on him six months ago—corporate espionage, his competitor said. But somewhere between the stolen glances across their breakfast table and the nights he held her while she cried about fictional past traumas, the line had blurred. She'd fallen in love with her target.

Now she knew the feeling was mutual.

"Mind if I join you?"

Maria jumped. A woman in her forties stood there, martini in hand, expensive jewelry catching the fading light. David's business partner, Elena.

"He knows, Maria." Elena sat beside her, dipping her feet in the pool. "The papaya's a nice touch—very local. But your extraction's been compromised."

Maria's heart stopped.

"I'm not here for David." Elena set down her drink. "I'm the real spy. You were just a distraction, a way to keep him occupied while I accessed his servers. The camera? My idea."

Maria felt sick. All those intimate moments, all those whispered confessions in what she thought was the privacy of their bedroom.

"Why tell me?"

Elena's smile didn't reach her eyes. "Because I believe in fair play. And because you should know—David wasn't spying on you. He was recording himself. For you. anniversary present. A video log of how much he loved you."

Maria's hands trembled as she picked up the papaya, suddenly understanding the bitter truth: she'd been the spy all along, destroying the only real thing she'd ever had.

The iPhone lit up again. David's face appeared on screen, smiling in some selfie they'd taken. Beneath it, a new notification: 'I love you. Please come home.'