Home at last, a familiar sight awaited me inside. The couch untouched and made perfectly, vases with fresh flowers stemming out, the birch wood table and a 4D tv. My house was one no short of luxury but i am not as lucky as it seems. At this point i did not know the fact that shakes me to the core today. While i was downstairs my husband of 10 years was fucking our maid. My trust was violated that day. I knew he was working at home lately, so I decided to walk upstairs. As i tiptoed towards the room, planning to scare him, I heard the bed creaking. Curious to know why I pushed the door open. The maid had pitch black hair tied into a high pony on her head, her skin was ghostly white and she was crying. My husband was on top of her moaning. Her mouth was covered. It was clear she didn’t want this. I lunged towards them, grabbing the emergency knife in the draw. His back gashed open spilling its crimson contents outwards. I heard a sigh of relief from the girl as his hand fell off of her. He wasn’t dead just injured. The woman was a lesbian and he said he could “change her” but i as a person know that you sexuality cannot be changed by men, in-fact I’m a bisexual. I love this women and we are now dating and as of my husband he died after i rubbed it in his face that I got the bitch. Now who’s oblivious?