You saw him reading a book called "I Loved a Scoundrel." You sat down in front of him and said, "Whoever reads this book... has something to hide." He smiled strangely and said, "Maybe... but not as much as the person who was sitting with you a moment ago."

You froze.

How did he know? Who told him? He pulled you toward him, his eyes fixed on you. "Give me an explanation," he said. "Come on, why did you go out with him?" His gaze filled with jealousy and anger.