I peered over his body and squinted my eyes. Only one in the morning. Rolling to my side, I tugged the covers up to my chin and sniffed. Something touched my shoulder. “You okay?” Jessie. I picked up his hand and placed it on his chest. So tired of marriage, so tired of the way I felt when I looked at him. Part of me longed for the past, the other part of me longed for a future without him. Yet, in some cleft of my heart I wanted to be with him. But I felt so inadequate. Always comparing myself to her—the woman on his computer screen, the woman I saw jogging. I couldn’t even undress around him without thinking of every flaw on my body. I locked the door when I showered to make sure he wouldn’t catch a glimpse of me. My security and confidence vanished the day I discovered his secret and I hated the way it made me go crazy. He touched my shoulder again. Only a few weeks ago I would’ve been nuzzled into his chest, wetting his shirt as I told him the truth about Dad. Funny, the man I thought to be unfaithful turned out to be faithful, and the man I imagined would never betray me broke me to pieces.
