My marriage ended because I found a love letter from my spouse.

 

Nancy appeared to live a safe life until she found a secret note in her husband David’s laundry. David writes a letter inviting an anonymous woman to celebrate their “seven-year anniversary” with him. What more can we learn from the filthy laundry?

 

 

 

 

In our home, Mom assigned laundry as just another task. David never does the laundry or the toilet, but he does assist with the cooking and the children.

“I can’t do the hair in the drain,” David replied with a wince when I asked him to take up the household duties.

 

My hair is the cause. besides our daughter’s,” I laughed.

In response, he said, “It’s still disgusting,”

 

 

 

 

The noises of the dryer and washing machine, however, quickly became my favorite peaceful activity, and I was glad to have it all to myself.

With the exception of the one laundry day when more than just filthy stains were discovered.

I was searching through my husband’s clothes when my hands’ haphazard movements were interrupted by the gentle crinkle of paper. A nicely folded letter fell to the floor from between the folds of his shirt, looking innocent and lovely.

My dear, happy anniversary! I’ve had the best seven years of my life! Come see me on Wednesday at 8:00 p.m. at Obélix. Dress in crimson.

My husband had very distinctive handwriting. His letters had loops, and he wrote under tremendous pressure.

I felt a chill go down my spine.

 

 

 

 

After seven years? I’ve been married to David for eighteen years. We have two girls. Our anniversary was still six months away.

And the city’s most sophisticated restaurant, Obélix? David had made it clear to me that we needed to cut back on our expenditures.

 

He answered, “Nancy, we need to cook more at home.” Cut back on the quantity of takeout. We have been splurging lately, so the girls will just have to get accustomed to the idea.

“Are we having problems?” I asked, fearing that we would find ourselves in some unforeseen financial bind.

 

 

 

 

“No, we aren’t,” David reassured me. “But being aware is just a good thing.”Wednesday is approaching far too quickly. I spent days just thinking about it. I wanted to find out what David’s hidden letter was. I returned to see if the note was still in his shirt pocket the day after I discovered it, but it was gone.

I assumed it had been signed, sealed, and delivered.

As I started making breakfast that morning, David remarked, “I’m working late tonight, honey.”

 

 

 

“Are you going to grab something, or should I leave you a plate?” I inquired, well aware that he had a dinner reservation with an enigmatic woman wearing red.

He brought his travel mug with him and remarked, “I’ll get something on the way home.”

 

As I handed off kids at school and led the five rowdy schoolgirls in the afternoon lift club, the day stretched on. But I just couldn’t stop thinking about David.

The girls sat outside while I tried to think of anything to do, so I brought them back inside and made some snacks for them to eat.

 

 

 

 

My mother responded to my phone call for clarification by saying, “You’ve got the time and the location, Nancy.”

So you believe I should leave? Really? I inquired.

Of course, I was eager to get out. I was going to see David’s transgression. However, I didn’t want to hurt myself.

Yes. “This night, my love, is the cornerstone of your whole marriage,” she added. “I understand that it will be challenging, but at least you will know what has to be done next.”

My response was, “I suppose.”

 

 

 

She inquired, “Don’t you think you owe it to the girls?”

My mother could have taken care of the girls, but there wasn’t enough time to grab her and make it to the restaurant in time, so I made arrangements for a babysitter.

 

I stood in front of my closet, not knowing what to wear. I couldn’t decide whether to be a wallflower or let David miss me by doing nothing.

In front of the mirror, I said, “Stop it, Nancy.” “You’re going to have courage.”

David got me a beautiful red dress for my birthday a while back, and I slipped into it. Still, the fit was flawless. And I had a clear memory of the exchange.

 

 

 

“You’ve always been red,” David said, removing the clothing from its package.

I was brash and belligerent as I looked in the mirror, reflecting the impending conflict. I knew I looked fantastic, but I secretly felt tricked and furious.

 

Amid the clatter of glasses and the buzz of excitement, I arrived to the restaurant a bit early.

There stood the other female. She followed David’s instructions and wore crimson. She used her phone to take pictures of herself from different perspectives while grinning idly.

 

 

 

With my back to the door, I sat down next her after taking a deep breath. David wouldn’t be the first to see me. When I needed him, he had to be there.

The atmosphere changed when my hubby entered. He addressed her with such familiarity and tenderness that it really shocked me.

That’s how David had looked at me long ago, too.

I needed anything to calm my nerves, so I tasted the wine I had purchased.

David shifted a chair so that he was sitting next to the woman rather than across from her, and his eyes were kind. I’d been done the same by him. for his hand to come into contact with my knee. He showed her a white box and a huge bouquet of flowers.

 

 

 

“Isabelle,” he said as he leaned in to kiss me, but the kiss lasted far too long. “Darling, you look amazing as always.”

She chuckled softly, as casually as she had during her last selfie.

You have a talent for giving a woman a sense of individuality, David. Seven years already? Is it accurate?

 

 

 

His eyes locked with mine, and the warmth of his smile gave way to fear and a growing consciousness.

 

He got up silently and said to Isabelle in a whisper that he needed to go to the bathroom.

 

 

 

 

“David, don’t you dare!” I let out a cry.

His expression changed to one of terror as he paused. Isabelle, now a bewildered and nervous jumble, observed the events.

Between his wife and his covert admirer, David remained still. As he prepared his next move, I could see the wheels moving in his brain.

Trying not to look very anxious, I turned to Isabelle and introduced myself.

stating that Nancy is my name. “David’s nearly 18-year-old wife.”

 

 

 

 

“What?” Isabelle’s face went white as she spoke. “I was unaware of this! David told me that even after your separation, you two remained amicable because of your kids.

Isabelle’s fingers impatiently twisted a lock of hair. She obviously fell for David’s ruse just as easily as I did.

In his eyes, my spouse pleaded for either pardon or for the ground to erupt and engulf him. Though he opened his mouth, he remained silent. The quiet was unbearable.

Split? How imaginative you are, David.

I could see the tears forming in Isabelle’s eyes as she gazed directly at me.

“I sincerely apologize,” she said. “This is not something I ever wanted to be a part of.”

“I never meant for it to get this far,” David said.

I couldn’t tell who he was talking about.

A stench rose from Isabelle’s serviette. It was obvious to me that she was shaken.

Seven years, though? Over the course of their seven-year relationship, she never made an effort to meet my daughters. Or perhaps pay me a visit?

 

 

 

 

Did she fail to notice the seriousness of the situation? or that their relationship was more than just a romantic one?

I couldn’t understand it. It was a complete failure. Almost shortly after high school graduation, David and I got married. We were happy despite the typical arguments that married couples have. We were powerful.

That is, until that note appeared.

 

 

 

I reflected on all of our disagreements; yes, it had been challenging at the time, but we had always been able to work things out and come out on top. I reflected on David’s many late evenings and his business travels.

I recalled the night David packed his belongings into a bag while I was in bed eating ice cream.

His words were, “I’ll just be away for the weekend.”

I said, “Where are you staying?”

“At a hotel,” he said right away. But I won’t be by myself. I’ll be sharing a room with one of the guys.

 

 

 

I gave a nod. He had never given me any reason to doubt my trust, so I did.

Leaning back in my chair, I observed David resisting the want to console Isabelle. His face was dejected, and he was clenching his fists.

 

That was the most excruciating thing for me. My husband is so worried about this woman that he wanted to call her while I was present.

I didn’t believe our union was over. But my heart went out at that same instant.

 

 

 

I picked up my purse and said to David, “I’ll begin the divorce process.”

“I’m not going to explain this to the girls; you should.”

 

The eatery vanished into thin air as I walked out. I could feel the night air growing colder as I made my way to my car. I had admitted my treachery. However, I was aware that I still had a lot to figure out.

All I had to do was be strong for my girls. I was aware that our family and they would be destroyed by the divorce. But David put his hand to mine.