On an ordinary Tuesday night in December, two weeks before Christmas, my husband of twelve years asked me to join him at the table, where he sat with a piece of paper and two fingers of scotch in front of him. He had three things to tell me: 1. He’d had an affair shortly after our marriage. 2. He’d been using escorts on business trips. 3. He was leaving me for someone he’d met and known for one day in Las Vegas.



