He started taking phone calls in the garage and driving out on Saturdays only to return hours later without buying anything. One afternoon, I caught a faint scent of unfamiliar perfume on his jacket, something light and artificial that I knew did not belong to me.
I did not confront him immediately because I am not a dramatic person by nature, and I prefer understanding before reaction. Instead, I observed quietly and told myself there must be explanations, because we had endured difficult seasons before and always found our way back.
In December, while preparing his coat for dry cleaning, I found a Christmas card tucked into the pocket. It was unsigned, written in careful handwriting, and it said, “Every day with you feels like a blessing.”
There was only one letter beneath the message.
K.
I stood in the hallway of our home and felt a cold realization pass through me slowly and completely. A single letter was enough to unravel everything I thought was certain.