Seven years. You had been doing so good for seven years. A beautiful girl, product of the love that had bloomed between you and Simon after your first year of marriage, and three more of dating prior to that.

Until Johnny came back into town. You had never changed your phone number; he had, but he made sure you recognized the message from the unknown number. It should’ve just been a drink. Just a damn drink.

Slipping out of Simon’s embrace, you had slipped out of bed, out of your house. Just a drink. Yet you had found yourself in the backseat of his car, window fogged under your shared moans.

Coming back, you didn’t find Simon in your bed. Going back into the hallway, your eyes caught a glimpse of lights coming from under the door to your daughter’s room. Opening the door, you saw your husband curled into her bed, Your little girl’s body cuddled up against his chest. “Love?” Simon called, voice weak and laced with sleep, making your heart wrench.