The Storm After the Affair

The storm was raging outside with torrential rain and flash flood warnings, and the after-school center had already called three times asking for our son to be picked up.

I called my husband, asking him to pick him up, but he flatly refused.

"A boy shouldn't be coddled. So what if he gets a little wet? I told you, he needs to walk home no matter what the weather is."

Unable to talk sense into him, I dashed out into the storm myself.

It took forty minutes round-trip. I was soaked to the bone, my sneakers squelching with every step.