I woke up in a hospital bed after an ac:cident, my leg shattered, my whole body aching. Then my husband walked in – hand in hand with his mistress.

hand.

“This is Vanessa.”

Vanessa.

The name hit me like another collision.

Not because I recognized it.

Because I didn’t.

And somehow that hurt even worse.

I waited for him to explain. To laugh awkwardly and say she was a coworker or cousin or neighbor helping him through the crisis.

Instead, he sighed heavily like this conversation inconvenienced him.

“I was continue reading …