That night, I had a creeping suspicion my husband was spiking my tea with sleeping pills.
Inside the meticulously organized folders on his computer, each labeled with a precise date, I stumbled upon images that instantly shattered every illusion I had left about the man I once thought I knew intimately.
My stomach turned as faces of other women stared back at me from the screen, their eyes closed in a way that eerily mirrored the expressions in some of his recent photos of me, when I had been unaware, unsuspecting, trusting.
Some of the women were familiar; I recognized them from…
Inside the meticulously organized folders on his computer, each labeled with a precise date, I stumbled upon images that instantly shattered every illusion I had left about the man I once thought I knew intimately.
My stomach turned as faces of other women stared back at me from the screen, their eyes closed in a way that eerily mirrored the expressions in some of his recent photos of me, when I had been unaware, unsuspecting, trusting.
Some of the women were familiar; I recognized them from…
