My husband left his medication at home, so I stopped by his office to bring it to him. But when I asked the receptionist to call him downstairs, she said, "Ma'am, your husband has been on leave for the past week."

And I decided that I was not going to accuse him of one single thing until I actually knew what I was accusing him of.

That is the only decision in this entire account that I got right.

So the next morning I did something I did not think I was a person who did.

I followed my husband.

I let him get to the end of our road and then I went after him, with two or three cars in between, down roads I have driven about four thousand times.

And we came to the junction where he turns for the office.

He did not turn.

He indicated. And then he cancelled it and went straight on.

My stomach did something I have never felt before and have felt about four times since.

Twenty-five minutes straight across town.

Past the retail park. Past the turn for her mother's. Past four sets of lights I have never had any reason to sit at.