When a “coincidence” stops looking like a coincidence

 It’s usually because it isn’t. Patterns don’t lie, and lately the patterns have been loud.

Saturday afternoon, you were deep in your Gmail and Facebook settings—unlinking every logged‑in session on my phone and changing your password yet again. And somehow, I’m still supposed to believe the story about an interview you can’t show a single receipt for. No email. No address. No proof. Just a rush to get out the door and a little too much enthusiasm for someone supposedly stressed about “work.”

Then came the digital breadcrumbs. While I was replying to a simple text, I watched your email disappear from my accounts one site at a time. Not the first time you’ve done it, which is exactly why I noticed.

And your phone? Face‑down, camera closed out before you even stood up—like you were sanitizing the scene. That kind of over‑managed behavior always says more than words ever could.

I even tried to ignore the Messenger conversation you were having last night. I really did.

But once you left, the rest lined up exactly the way I already suspected it would. The profile you were looking at wasn’t random. She’s here in Oklahoma City. Her location sits just a few miles from the only distribution center open today. The timing, the distance, the secrecy—it all fits a little too neatly to be chance.

So let me be clear: I’m not confused. I’m not guessing. I’m not imagining anything.

I know.

And that’s all that needs to be said.