I had been married four years, and all that while, my husband had been the very picture of a perfect partner—so much so that I could scarcely recall a single serious quarrel between us.
Lately, we had begun to think of starting a family. We tried, we planned, but nothing came of it. My struggles with my hormones were to blame, yet never once did my husband reproach me for it. We even resolved that if we could not have our own child, we would consider adoption.
It seemed to me we were nearly the ideal family—save for one thing: there was little passion left in our union, and so perfection remained just out of reach.
I had a dear friend as well, a woman who had not yet settled into marriage, so we spent much time together, often going out for shopping. She was a handsome woman, mindful of her appearance, frequented the gym, and earned a fine living. She knew my husband, too—they both attended the same fitness club, though their schedules rarely aligned.
I was not a jealous woman, nor did I mistrust my husband—until that day. Nearing the time he usually returned from the gym, I stepped out to buy a loaf of bread for supper. But there, between the shelves, I was met with an ugly sight: my husband was not merely flirting with my friend but had his arms about her. At the sight of me, the two sprang apart—but by then, it was too late. I burst into tears and fled the shop, my husband rushing after me.
Outside, he insisted no embrace had taken place—that they had merely stood close, and my eyes had deceived me. He spoke so convincingly, I almost wished to believe him. Almost.
Once home, I packed my things and went to my parents’ house. I told them nothing—they were firm of temper, and my father, no doubt, would have taken matters into his own hands. Now, I stay with them, uncertain of what comes next. There is no irrefutable reason for divorce, yet neither can I say with certainty that I still love my husband. My friend calls, too, but I have no wish to speak with her—who knows what tales she might spin? If she tries to persuade me I imagined it all, I fear it would only make things worse. I trust her no longer—perhaps she only seeks to save herself.
