My wife screams out, "Please, you can't do this to him!"
I lost it. "Can't do this to him? You've destroyed me, our family, our friends, our future, and broken my heart, and you're worried about him?"
I'm shaking again, trying not to let her see me cry, but I can't hold together anymore. I fall back in the chair and start sobbing. She tries to come over to me, but I look at her and say, "Stay the hell away from me."
After a while, I calm down and look at his phone again.
He again says, "Please don't, I'm begging you. I swear I'll tell her."
"Yeah, right," I reply.
He's standing there pleading with me not to as I find her number and decide FaceTime would be even better. She answers, "Hi, sweet—" looks surprised, and says, "Who are you? Is my husband okay?"
"He is for now, but won't be in a minute."
I flip the screen to show him standing there in my wife's robe. I say, "I believe you know him. The room he's standing in is my bedroom. The floral robe he's wearing belongs to this woman," swinging the phone to catch my wife trying to pull the sheets over her head, but too late. "That's my wife, and I came home early today to find them having intercourse."
I truly feel sorry for her and lousy for how I did it. She starts crying, and he tries the "Honey, I'm so sorry, I can explain, it was just one time," etc., routine.