When My Husband's Affair Killed Our Son, I Took Revenge

At six in the morning, Jack Thompson came home after working overtime. He looked drained, but still managed to bring me a bouquet of flowers. Gently, he set the roses by my pillow. As usual, he leaned in to kiss my forehead.

But this time, I quietly pushed him away and asked for a divorce. Jack stared at me, shocked.

“Why? Just because I worked overtime too late?”

I shook my head. “Because at five in the morning, you sent me a message.”