I’ve been married for four years, and all this time, my husband has been the perfect partner—so perfect, I can’t even recall a single serious argument.
Lately, we’ve been thinking about starting a family. We’ve been trying, planning, but with no success. The issue lies with my hormonal imbalance, yet my husband has never once blamed me. We even agreed that if we couldn’t conceive, we’d consider adoption.
I truly believed we had an almost perfect marriage—the only thing missing was passion. That’s why it wasn’t quite the fairytale.
Then there’s my best friend. She isn’t married, so we spend a lot of time together, often going shopping. She’s beautiful, takes care of herself, hits the gym, and earns well. She and my husband know each other—they go to the same fitness centre, but they rarely cross paths as their workout times differ.
I’ve never been the jealous type, and I trusted him completely… until that day. He was due home from the gym, and I stepped out to grab some bread for dinner. And there, between the aisles, I saw it—the ugly truth. My husband wasn’t just flirting with my best friend—he had his arms around her. The moment they saw me, they sprang apart, but the damage was done. I burst into tears and ran, and he chased after me.
Outside, he swore no embrace had happened—just that they stood close, and my eyes had deceived me. He sounded so convincing, I almost wanted to believe him. Almost.
I went home, packed my things, and drove to my parents’ house. I didn’t tell Mum or Dad—they’re strong-willed, and my father would’ve gone straight to sort things out. Now I’m here, trying to figure out what comes next. There’s no solid proof for divorce, but I can’t say for certain that I still love him. My friend keeps calling, but I don’t want to speak to her—who knows what she’d say? If she tries to convince me it was all in my head, it’ll only make things worse. I don’t trust her anymore. She’s probably just trying to save herself.
