You were supposed to surprise her.

Yesterday marked a full decade since the day you exchanged vows with Megan—ten years of shared dreams, laughter, and building a life together. You took the day off early, bought her favorite bouquet of lilies and lavender, and even rehearsed what you'd say when you walked into her office: "Ten years and I still love you like day one."

But the surprise wasn't yours to give. It was hers.

As you pushed the door open to her office, grinning with the flowers in hand, you froze.

There she was Megan, your wife sitting casually on the edge of her desk, her blouse slightly unbuttoned, giggling softly while a younger coworker stood intimately close. His hand rested lightly on her waist, and he leaned in to nuzzle her neck. She didn't resist. In fact, she tilted her head just slightly, inviting him.

You stood there—silent, motionless—as the air was sucked out of the room.

Then she saw you.

Her smile disappeared, her face went pale. She pulled away quickly, brushing her blouse straight, pushing her glasses back up with shaking fingers. The other man—startled—looked between you both, then slipped past you with a quiet, "Sorry, man."

She stammered, "Wait—I can explain—"

But could she?

You stood there—silent, motionless—as the air was sucked out of the room.