It’s always those nights when he stays late at work… running the company…

“Babe, I’ll be late—got a lot to take care of.” “I just have to finish something up, but I’ll be home soon.”

I believed those excuses. I really did… Until I went to wash his shirts—and noticed a red smudge on the collar. Lipstick? How did it get there?

Since then, the doubts started creeping in. I didn’t wash that shirt on purpose… Just to see if another one would show up.

A few weeks later…

“Hey… when are you coming home? Don’t tell me you’re doing overtime again…” “Hey babe, yeah sorry… there’s just so much going on at work. I still have to—” I cut him off. “Yeah. Sure. Of course.” “But I promise I’ll be home soon.”

I didn’t say another word. I just hung up.

A few hours later, he walked through the door—and again… that red smudge. “Hey babe, I’m finally—” SLAP. I hit him before he could finish.

“What the hell?! What was that for?” “What’s this?” “What’s what?” “THIS! Do you think I’m stupid? That I didn’t notice it last time? Is this why you’re always coming home so late? Are you cheating on me?!”

“Wait, what? No! Absolutely not—” “DON’T YOU FUCKING LIE TO ME!”

“I… I can explain,” he tried to stay calm.

“I don’t want your explanations. WHO IS SHE, HUH?!”

“Baby, calm down—”

“WHO?!” I smashed the vase on the table.

“WHO?! BECAUSE THAT SURE AS HELL ISN’T FROM ME—” I cut him off again. “I DON’T EVEN OWN A LIPSTICK LIKE THAT! …It’s the secretary, isn’t it?”

“Babe… aren’t you overreacting a bit?”