Michael and I had been together for almost four years.
By then I knew his habits by heart. He always forgot receipts in his pockets, carried the same business card around for weeks and regularly left his keys in places he could never find again.
But there had never been any real secrets between us. At least, that was what I always believed.
Our wedding ended long after midnight. When we got back to the hotel, my feet were throbbing and Michael could barely keep his eyes open. He pulled off his jacket, tossed it onto the armchair by the window and fell into bed almost at once.
The next morning I woke up before him. The room was quiet. I decided to let him sleep and started packing. We were leaving after lunch for a short honeymoon, and I wanted everything ready ahead of time.
I folded the clothes into the suitcase, put away the jewelry and then noticed a small stain on the sleeve of his jacket. There was a dry cleaner downstairs in the hotel, so I decided to take the suit down right away.
Out of habit, I went through the pockets first. A crumpled napkin. The room key card. A few coins. Nothing unusual.
I was about to slide the jacket into its garment bag when I noticed one more inner pocket, closed with a small button.
I can’t explain why, but right then a strange feeling came over me.
I undid the button and slipped my hand inside. My fingers touched something small, smooth and hard. It wasn’t a phone. It wasn’t keys. It wasn’t a ring box.
I slowly pulled it out and stared at it for several seconds. Then I looked at Michael. He was still asleep.
At that very moment he woke up and saw what was in my hand. His face changed so fast that I did not need an explanation. This was no accident.
“Where did you get that?” he asked, jumping out of bed.
Without a word, I pointed at the inner pocket of his jacket.
He stared at me for a few seconds. Then he walked over and locked the hotel room door. That was when I got truly scared.
I demanded the truth. First he tried to convince me it was not what it looked like. Then he said it was something for work. A few minutes later he admitted that for almost two years he had secretly been selling illegal substances through people he knew in several cities.
What I had found was not an ordinary USB drive. It held contacts, sums of money, meeting addresses and a list of the people he was supposed to deliver to as soon as we got back from our honeymoon.
And that was not even the worst part. I suddenly understood that some of our trips, his expensive gifts and the money he always called the result of “good deals” were all tied to this.
I looked at the man I had married less than a day earlier and realized I knew almost nothing about him.
He begged me not to tell anyone and kept saying he had planned to quit everything after the wedding. I no longer believed a single word.
While he was in the bathroom, I grabbed my phone and my documents and walked out of the room.
We never went on that honeymoon. A few hours later I was sitting in a police station, telling them everything I knew.
