The day my wife refused, for the eighth time, to cut off her male confidant.
Angry, I drove off, my brakes failed, and I crashed.
My lower body went numb. The doctors told me I was looking at permanent paralysis.
It was Olivia Winfield, my wife, who cried her eyes red after the hospital called the family.
Three days and three nights she stayed awake at my side, comforting me, until I found the will to keep living again.
I thought she had finally come back to me.
Then, the very night the doctor said my injuries were improving, I discovered that once I'd fallen asleep, she quietly opened the door of the ward, pulled another man inside, and slipped with him into the bathroom, tangled together.
Watching her face, soft and lovestruck and lost in it, I lay there with my eyes red, and in the end I never interrupted them.
Not even when the two of them reached their peak. I didn't expose them on the spot. I just turned over in silence and closed my eyes.
1
The next morning when I woke, Olivia was quietly peeling an apple for me, her eyes on the drama everyone was streaming lately, The Useless Husband.
The moment she noticed I was awake, the show had reached the scene where the female lead cheats on her spouse.
Something flickered across her face before she could stop it, and she paused the screen.
"Honey, you slept in a little today. Are you still hurting, still uncomfortable?"
"Don't worry. Even if you really are paralyzed for the rest of your life, I'll stay by you forever. What kind of wife would I be if I didn't?"
I sighed.
"I don't like this show."
With that, she switched off the tablet.
She came over to me with a playful air of mystery and produced a wrapped gift box from behind her back.
"Honey, I'm sorry. You left angry on our anniversary last week, and it's been weighing on me. I've had a present ready for you this whole time and I forgot to give it to you."
She opened the box and held it out in front of me.
"What do you think? It's that blue necktie you love best. Go on, see if it suits you."
I glanced into the box. Sitting there quietly inside were several used condoms.
Catching the change in my expression, Olivia rushed to explain.
"Honey, I thought you liked this tie, so I had someone mail it over from abroad. I never guessed you wouldn't like it. I'll just swap it for something else next time."
And with a look of disappointment, she closed the box back up.
The old me would have seen that hurt on her face and been aching to comfort her.
But now.
I only pushed the apple she offered gently away.
"You don't need to explain, Olivia. If there's nothing else, I think we should just get a divorce."
Olivia seemed not to grasp what I meant, the color draining from her face.
"Kerry Dickerson, I don't want a divorce! And the company, I worked so hard to build it into what it is today. You can't take my success away from me."
Looking at her, all wounded and pitiful, I felt a sharp ache go through my heart.
