A Cactus, A Key, and a Secret Life: The Day I Discovered My Husband’s Double Life

No answer.

An elderly neighbor appeared, eyeing me suspiciously. “Looking for Sarah?” she asked.

“Yes,” I replied.

“They’re out at their cabin for the weekend,” she said. “Won’t be back ‘til Monday.”

Just my luck.

But the neighbor, perhaps sensing my urgency, offered a phone number. “Just in case,” she said.

I thanked her and stepped out onto the sidewalk. Warm sunlight bathed the street, mocking my inner turmoil. I walked to a nearby café and sat with my untouched lunch.

Then I made a decision.

I would call Sarah.

Not to accuse. Not to scream. Just to speak. Woman to woman. Wife to… wife?

I stared at her number, thumb hovering over the call button.

But something told me — this needed to happen in person.

And I was willing to wait.

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