But I didn’t confront him. Not yet. Something in me froze instead of exploded. The next morning, I quietly contacted a lawyer. I started planning an escape—changing passwords, checking finances, imagining a life without him. Meanwhile, I treated him coldly, barely speaking, barely looking at him. He seemed confused, but I didn’t care. I felt betrayed, humiliated.
Then, a few days later, he walked in after work with someone beside him.
“Babe,” he said cheerfully, “I brought a guest. This is Greg. You’re going to love him—he’s a great guy.”
I stood in the hallway, numb… until I met Greg’s eyes.
