I caught my wife cheating, and she screamed, "At least he makes me feel alive." I calmly said, "Then live your best life." Then I packed her bags, called her affair partner to pick her up, and changed the locks within 2 hours. When he refused to let her move in, I, 37 male, flew home early from a work trip because my connecting flight got canceled. Managed to grab an earlier direct flight, figured I'd surprise my wife with takeout and an extra night together.

Surprised her, all right. Walked into my living room to find her sprawled on the couch, wine bottle half empty, FaceTiming someone while giggling like a teenager. The kind of giggling I hadn't heard directed at me in probably a year. "God, I wish you were here instead." She was saying to her screen.

Cleared my throat. She literally jumped and almost yeeted her phone across the room. "You're home early. Why are you early?" "Flight got rescheduled.

Who's that?" She angled the phone away from me. "Nobody. Just book club stuff." "Book club?"

Her book club met every other week, not daily video calls that required wine and her good push-up bra. "Let me see the phone." "It's just a friend. God, why are you being weird?" I wasn't the jealous type, never had been.

8 years of marriage, I'd never checked her phone, never questioned girls' nights. Nothing. But the way she was clutching that phone like it contained nuclear launch codes. Walked over before she could stop me and looked at the screen. Some younger guy, shirt open, clearly in a bedroom.

He saw me and his face went white before he hung up instantly. "Okay, so that's not book club." My wife stood up fast, wobbling. Day drinking and lying, fantastic combo. "Before you jump to conclusions How long?"

"It's really not what it looks like." "How long have you been sleeping with him?" She froze, bit her lip, looked everywhere except at me. "A few months." "How many is a few?

Does it matter? Yeah, actually, it does. She poured herself more wine with shaking hands. Four. Four months.

But it's not serious. It's just It's nothing. Four months. While I'd been working 80-hour weeks at the firm, while I'd been planning our anniversary trip, while I'd been paying her car note because she was between projects. What's his name?

That's not important. It is if I'm calling him to come get you. Her head snapped up. What? Something just clicked off in my brain, like a light switch.

I'd spent 8 years with this woman, paid off her $34,000 in credit card debt, supported her through three different career transitions, dealt with her mother treating me like I wasn't good enough, and she'd spent 4 months screwing some guy who hangs out on FaceTime in his bedroom in the middle of the afternoon. You heard me. Call him. Tell him to come get you. Baby, no.

Stop. Let's just talk about this. She reached for my arm. I stepped back. Nothing to talk about.

You want him, go be with him. It was a mistake. I'll end it right now. I swear. Cool.

Still leaving, though. Started walking to the bedroom. She followed me, crying now. Real tears or wine tears, couldn't tell, didn't care. Grabbed her two big suitcases from the closet and started throwing her clothes in.

Dresses, jeans, those weird athleisure sets she bought and never worked out in. All of it. Please, stop. Where am I supposed to go? His place, probably, since you've been spending so much time thinking about him anyway.

He's not my boyfriend. I stopped and looked at her. What is he then? She opened her mouth, closed it, couldn't answer. Kept packing.

Shoes, makeup, that expensive hair dryer I bought her for Christmas, into the bags. She was full-on sobbing now, snot and everything. Took me maybe half an hour to to most of her stuff together. Hauled both suitcases to the front door. She collapsed back on the couch crying into a throw pillow.

Give me his number. No. Then I'm putting your stuff on the lawn and calling it a day. You can't do this to me. His number or the lawn, pick one.

She gave it to me. Hands shaking, mascara running down her face like a sad raccoon. I called it right there, on speaker. He answered after three rings. Hello?

Hey man, so I'm the husband. You've been having a good time with my wife for 4 months, right? Dead silence. Here's the situation. She needs somewhere to stay, like permanently.

I'm done with this. So, you can come pick her and her stuff up, or I'm leaving it on the curb. You got 30 minutes to decide. More silence. Then, bro, I This is not We don't have that kind of relationship.

What kind of relationship do you have? It's casual. Very casual. She can't just I mean, I have roommates, and it's not like we're dating. It was just for fun.

Oh, this was beautiful. I actually laughed. Let me get this straight. You've been hooking up with a married woman for 4 months, but it's just for fun? Look, dude, I'm sorry about your situation, but that's between you two.

I'm not trying to be part of whatever this is. My wife made a strangled noise and tried to grab the phone. I held it up away from her. So, that's a no on picking her up? That's a hard no, man.

This is way too much. I'm actually going to need both of you to lose my number. Good luck with everything. Click. The silence was so thick you could cut it with a knife.

My wife stared at her phone like it had personally betrayed her. He didn't mean that. He's just freaked out. If I explain Nope. Get your stuff and go.

Where? Where am I supposed to go? And that's when it happened. She stood up, face red and blotchy, wine sloshing in her glass, and absolutely lost it. At least he makes me feel alive.