My Wife's Heart Beats for Two

Kate sneered, her voice cold. “Oh, I get it—you’re trying to guilt-trip me into coming home? Just because I’m not spending the night with you? Well, I’m staying with Abel tonight. What are you going to do about it? I want you to understand—nothing changes, even if we share a bed.”

I didn’t reply, just let her words linger before I hung up, my heart heavy. On what should have been our seventh wedding anniversary, I finally accepted the truth and made a decision I’d been avoiding for too long.

The next morning, Kate returned home looking worn out, draped in a man’s jacket. Faint hickeys traced her neck and collarbone, leaving no doubt about her night with Abel.

When she saw me, she looked momentarily taken aback, then quickly masked it with defiance. “They’re just hickeys,” she said flatly. “Nothing happened between us. Don’t give me that look. I told you—Abel and I are just good friends. We didn’t cross any lines.”

At that moment, the doorbell rang. Kate opened it to find Abel standing there, holding a small bag with a smirk. “You left this in my car,” he said, handing it to her. She took it without even glancing in my direction, as though I wasn’t there—an afterthought in my own home. It was painfully clear: whatever bond we had left was gone, unraveling entirely in that silent exchange.

Abel looked at me and nodded, almost casually. "Kate was drunk last night, so she stayed in the hotel. Don’t overthink it."

I could barely feel anything anymore, my heart dulled from the past few days. Clenching my fists, I walked over to Kate, opened her coat, and pointed to the unmistakable hickeys. “So, this is what you call ‘doing nothing’? Pure friendship, right?”

Turning to Abel, I asked, “You’re looking at these marks, and you’re saying nothing happened?”

Kate hastily pulled her coat back on, her face a mix of frustration and defiance. “It was just a friendly kiss to celebrate his birthday. Do we need to make a big scene? Stop yelling about it, or people might get the wrong idea.”

With a tired sigh, she brushed past me, muttering, “I’m exhausted and have no energy to argue. Move, I need to rest.” She pushed past me into the bedroom.

As she moved, the bag she was carrying slipped from her hand, spilling its contents. On the floor lay a pair of underwear, bearing stains that made my stomach twist.

Kate snatched it up quickly, her face flushed. “It got messy last night because I was drunk. Don’t overreact,” she said defensively, though her eyes betrayed uncertainty.

I seized the bag and pulled out the underwear, throwing it at her face with rage in my eyes. "Kate, you’re truly disgusting."

Kate gasped, pulling the underwear away from her face. "Kip, are you out of your mind?"

Abel rushed in to shield her. "What are you doing? You can’t just attack a woman!"

Without hesitation, I punched him in the face, sending him crashing to the ground, then turned to Kate and slapped her. "This is what it means to take action!"

She screamed, covering her cheek. "You dare hit me? Just because I didn’t spend the anniversary with you, you resort to violence?"

I pointed at the hickeys on her body and the underwear lying on the floor, glaring at her. "Kate, you make me sick. I'm done with this—this sham of a marriage. I want a divorce."

Kate struggled to her feet, her voice rising in anger. "What proof do you have? You need to apologize to Abel, right now!"

I turned back to Abel, landing another punch. "Apologize to him? Do you think one punch is enough? Just get out of my sight."

As Kate sobbed, she stormed out, and I slammed the door behind her. Both families would know about our impending divorce after she went home in tears.