Over the past few months, Robert had often been coming home late. He said he was helping an old friend or occasionally traveling out of town.
I believed him.
That evening, I showed him the photograph.
He stared at the screen for a long time before lowering his head.
“Robert, tell me this isn’t true.”
He didn’t answer.
“Do you know this woman?”
“Yes, Margaret.”
“Eight months?”
He whispered so quietly I could barely hear him.
“Yes.”
After that single word, even the walls of our home seemed unfamiliar.
The following day, Susan called me herself.
Through my tears, I begged her to leave our family alone.
But she calmly replied,
“Margaret, I didn’t steal your husband. He came to me on his own. And remember, a man never leaves a home where he’s truly happy.”
Three days later, Robert packed his clothes and left.
Susan sent me another message.
