He was at a loss. Days went by when he couldn’t remember whether he had smiled, or said a word to anyone. He left home every morning at dawn, and came home late, as late as he could, to make sure his wife had already gone to sleep. She probably knew he was avoiding her, but wasn’t in a position to complain. She had it coming.

It was about a week ago that she had waited for him in the evening at the kitchen table. She’d been crying, but had stopped now and just sat there with a straight face, staring into her glass of wine. He knew what she was going to say before she said it.

‘I had an affair.’

‘I know.’

They talked a bit more after that. He didn’t shout, didn’t ask too many questions. He knew. All the late nights she’d sneak out of bed, texting and smiling. All the client dinners and then the girls weekends.

But he didn’t blame her. Or himself. These things just happen.

The worst part was that his friends knew and he couldn’t bear them anymore. The looks of pity, the minds already made up. Everyone said the same thing, before even hearing the whole story - leave her. Get out. Get a divorce. There was no use explaining that he’d been cold for months. That she had tried everything to bring him back into the relationship and he’d resisted. He blamed himself, but no one would hear it. In their eyes, only one person was to blame - her.

He wanted to just escape. Head out into the world where no one knew him. Find a safe place and then ask her to join him there. Start fresh. He knew her, she didn’t want to hurt him. They loved each other.

One thing he couldn’t live with was being the guy who stayed with his wife after she cheated on him. Not when everyone knew and would forever look at him like he’d been fooled. No one would let him forget, with every look, and then later with every not so subtle joke.

He only wished she had been more careful. Chosen someone he didn’t know. A stranger in a bar. A random guy on the internet. Then it could just be over, and he wouldn’t have to deal with the judgement.