The next morning, I awoke with a sense of resolve. I needed to understand the full story, to see beyond the fragments I had pieced together. After breakfast, I gathered my courage and approached my spouse, who was sitting at the dining table, engrossed in the morning paper.
“Can we talk?” I asked, my voice steady but firm.
They looked up, surprise flitting across their face before they nodded. “Of course. What’s on your mind?”
I placed the list of calendar entries on the table between us, each date a silent accusation. “I found these,” I said, pointing to the highlighted dates. “I need to know what’s going on.”
There was a pause, a moment of stillness as they absorbed the information. “It’s not what you think,” they began, their voice measured and calm. “Alex and I have been friends for years. It’s just… reconnecting.”
“Then why keep it a secret?” I pressed, unwilling to let the matter drop.
They sighed, their fingers tracing the edge of the paper. “I didn’t want to worry you. I thought it was harmless, just catching up with an old friend.”
“But it’s not harmless to me,” I replied, my voice betraying none of the turmoil inside. “I need transparency. We need transparency.”
They nodded, their eyes meeting mine, a flicker of understanding passing between us. “I’ll be honest with you,” they said, their voice quiet but sincere. “No more secrets.”
It was a start, a tentative step forward. But I knew there was more to uncover, more conversations to be had. The journey was far from over.
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