I came home early to pick up a few things for an afternoon meeting at one of the houses I was showing when I noticed Benjamin’s car in the driveway.
Benjamin, my husband, was a high-profile prosecution lawyer in our city, hell, most of the state. He had never lost a case and seeing his car at home so early in the afternoon was not something I expected.
‘Maybe he’s working from home today,’ I thought to myself as I walked inside.
It didn’t take long for me to figure out what was happening. There was a smell in the air that wasn’t my perfume and sounds coming from the upstairs bedroom.
‘Thirty-Seven years,’ I thought to myself as I gained the strength to go up the stairs. I had never cheated on Benjamin, not once, not even flirted with another man.
We had been together since the last year of high school. I had been with him through everything.
Thirty-seven was the years we had been married, but we had known each other for two years before that, and now it was all getting thrown away.