My Husband Was Sleeping With His Secretary in the Back of His Car — I Found Her Lace Under the Seat and Said Nothing, Just Mailed It to Her Husband With Four Words, and Hours Later an Envelope Arrived at the Hospital That Exposed the Secret He’d Buried for Six Years

The embezzlement was arithmetic.

And I understood, standing there, that I had been mourning the wrong loss.

I had thought the tragedy was that my husband had stopped loving me.

The real tragedy, the one those pages revealed, was that at some point my husband had stopped seeing me as a person at all, and started seeing me as an obstacle between himself and a pile of money — and you do not have affairs with obstacles.

You remove them.