I lost the head. Who could blame me? He’s been acting strange lately. Leaving early in the morning, coming home late at night. Leaving the room to whisper into his phone out in the hallway. I caught him texting when he thought I was watching telly.
He never texts…He never texts me. So when I found the receipt in his pocket, I put two and two together and came up with a million reasons why he’s never home anymore.
He said he was working late but there was never any extra money at the end of the week to show for it….and then I found a receipt in his pocket for perfume… and roses. He never buys perfume or flowers for me.
And the ultimate betrayal… he’d bought Paco Rabanne; my absolute favourite. Not that he’d remember that. He’s too busy ‘Working late’
I haven’t been out in weeks. He said we couldn’t afford it. The bills are piling up and there he was buying presents for some floozie. All those nights spent sitting in on my own, and he’s been out God knows where, with God knows who.
Today is our anniversary. Ten years. He left for work early again, without saying a word.
I spent the morning crying, wondering how he could do this to me. I’ve been a good wife. I never moan or stop him from going out with his mates. I have his dinner on the table every night, and he’s not left wanting in the bedroom, if you know what I mean.
Suddenly I saw red. There was no way I was putting up with this. I ran up the stairs to our room. I ripped up all of his good shirts and cut the legs off his favourite jeans. I’d just poured the last of his favourite aftershave down the sink when the doorbell rang.
It was special delivery. Twelve red roses and a bottle of Paco Rabanne Lady One Million.
There was a gift card enclosed. It read :
‘Happy anniversary to my darling wife. Thank you for being so understanding. You are my one in a million’
Oh Fuck! What have I done?