I drove her to appointments. I helped with medication. I sat beside her through physical therapy and watched her fight tears every time her body refused to obey her.
But weeks turned into months.
And something ugly inside me began to grow.
Our marriage no longer felt like the one I remembered. There were no easy mornings, no spontaneous dinners, no laughter filling the kitchen after work. Everything became routines, treatments, silence, and exhaustion.
Lauren never blamed me.
She never shouted.
She never asked why I was becoming a stranger in our own home.
She only looked at me with tired eyes full of quiet sadness.
That made the guilt harder to bear.
So instead of facing it, I ran from it.
That was when Olivia came into my life.
She worked with one of my colleagues and felt like the opposite of everything waiting for me at home. She was confident, flirtatious, careless in a way that made responsibility seem far away. What started as harmless conversation became lingering looks, private jokes, and excuses to stay near each other longer than we should have.
I knew exactly where it was heading.
