You had married him three years ago. Your relationship was built on great love, and you believed that nothing could threaten this love. In the first year of your marriage, you had beautiful twins. But as time passed, responsibilities began to weigh you down. Taking care of the children and household chores consumed all your energy. Gradually, your self-care declined; you gained a little weight, and your once-bright features changed.

You were busy doing laundry one afternoon, when a small stain caught your eye on one of his shirts. A clear lipstick mark, in a bright color that did not resemble your lipstick colors that you had abandoned months ago. Your hands froze, and a strange feeling crept into your heart... a mixture of shock, fear, and disgust.

“This doesn’t make sense,” you said to yourself, trying to convince your mind not to jump to conclusions. But the mark before your eyes was screaming a truth that you did not want to believe.

That night, he came home late as usual. He looked exhausted, but you were exhausted too, not just from the physical work, but from the constant thinking.

He was lying on the couch, immersed in his phone screen, when you approached him with hesitant steps. With a trembling hand, you picked up the shirt and pointed to the spot, and asked in a voice that you tried to make steady:

"What is this?"

He looked up coldly, as if he didn't see anything worth worrying about. "None of your business," he said with an indifference that burned your nerves.

You shouted with a trembling voice, loaded with your anger and pain:

"I'm your wife! I have the right to know!"

At that, he suddenly got up from his seat, and faced you with a harsh look that you were not used to from him. He said sharply, leaving no room for discussion:

"Look at yourself. At your condition. You've become miserable. I don't even know what I was thinking when I married you."