They weren’t sitting like two people who had accidentally found themselves in the same room.
They looked comfortable.
Intimate.
Happy.
Then I noticed something that hurt even more than the photograph itself.
Robert was wearing his wedding ring.
I stared at the picture, hoping there was some explanation I hadn’t considered. Perhaps she was a colleague. Perhaps the photograph had been taken at a gathering. Perhaps the unknown sender was trying to frighten me.
Then another message appeared.
“My name is Susan Miller. I’m fifty-nine years old, and I’ve been involved with your husband for eight months. Robert loves me, and I’m tired of pretending our relationship doesn’t exist.”
I felt the blood drain from my face.
A second message followed.
“He’s told me everything about your marriage. He says you’ve been living like strangers for years. He stays because he feels guilty about abandoning you at your age. Don’t worry, though. That’s about to change.”
