In our household, laundry was my responsibility. David helped with the kitchen and kids but never touched the laundry or bathroom. “I can’t do the hair in the drain,” David said, grimacing. “It’s my hair. And our daughter’s,” I chuckled. Despite this, laundry became my quiet escape until one day, it revealed a heartbreaking secret.

While doing laundry, I found a letter in David’s shirt. It read, “Happy anniversary, babe! These 7 years have been the best of my life! Meet me at Obélix on Wednesday night, 8 p.m. Be in red.” A cold shiver ran down my spine. We had been married for eighteen years, not seven. Our anniversary was six months away, and Obélix was a restaurant we couldn’t afford.

Determined to uncover the truth, I dressed in the red dress David had gifted me and went to Obélix. I watched as David warmly greeted another woman, Isabelle, with flowers and a kiss. “David, you always know how to make a girl feel special. Seven years already? Can you believe it?” Her laughter was carefree until she noticed me. I introduced myself as David’s wife of almost eighteen years. Isabelle was shocked, “David told me you were separated.”

David was speechless as I confronted him. Isabelle, realizing she had been deceived, apologized, “I never wanted to be part of something like this.” I felt betrayed, knowing David’s affair had lasted seven years. I told David, “I’ll begin the divorce process. You need to explain this to the girls; I’m not going to.” As I walked away, I knew I had to be strong for my daughters, despite the pain.