A chill crept over me as I stared at the computer screen in disbelief. I struggled to comprehend the e-mail I had just opened. It was clearly a love letter, and its contents made it obvious the writer and addressee had been intimate over a long period of time. The incomprehensible part: This e-mail was signed by my husband--and it was not addressed to me.
The e-mail explained why, 10 days before, our lives had taken a devastating turn. We had spent a beautiful, sunny January day picnicking at a riverside park with our son. Later, after Trevor* had run off to play at a neighbor's and I had started cooking dinner, my husband, George*, appeared in the doorway of the kitchen, suitcase in hand. read more