After a long and difficult day, Mel goes home to two hungry children, an untidy house and a lying spouse who doesn’t know that Mel knows what he’s been up to. Instead of helping her out, Owen continues to pile onto her day. Will Mel reveal the truth?

You know when you get home from work the last thing you want to see is a dirty home? Except, that’s exactly what you get — a house in utter chaos.

I walked into my home, hoping to find the girls busy with their homework and Owen sitting at the table with them, helping out wherever necessary.

“Thank goodness, you’re home!” Lily, my eleven-year-old, exclaimed, taking my bag from me.

“What’s wrong?” I asked immediately.

“Emma and I are starving!” she said, rolling her eyes. “Meanwhile, Dad’s been watching TV all afternoon.”

“What?” I asked, looking around the house to find Emma’s toys strewn around. “Why is the house such a mess?”

In the background, I could hear the TV blaring. Of course, Owen would be sitting in front of the TV, acting as though nothing had happened.

“Emma threw a tantrum because I gave her a granola bar,” Lily said. “I know she doesn’t like them, but she didn’t want yoghurt either.”

Emma was eight and truly believed in the princess lifestyle. Owen, Lily, and I were all just subjects living in my daughter’s world.

Lily hung onto my arm — always my shadow.

“Come on, let me talk to Dad,” I said.

In the living room, Owen was stretched out on the couch, almost asleep.

“Owen!” I called out. “What’s going on?”

“What do you mean?” he asked, stretching. “Everything’s fine.”

“The kids are hungry, the house is a mess. There’s no dinner prepared. Look at the time!”

Owen rolled his eyes.

Now, don’t get me wrong — I didn’t expect Owen to do everything. I worked from home every other day, and on those days, I had everything under control.

Owen was a lecturer, and while a lot of his lectures were online, he did go onto campus when necessary. On the days he worked from home, he was in charge of taking care of the girls and dinner until I got home.

“I lost track of the time,” Owen said sheepishly. “Emma has been throwing a tantrum all afternoon and refuses to reason with me. Lily has been rude. She only wanted you to help with her homework.”

Lily scoffed beside me.

“And I had a rough day, Mel,” he said. “I was stuck in front of my computer the whole day, but the internet was so slow. I could barely complete a lecture.”

Owen continued to complain about his day. As he listed off the things that made his day horrible, he became more animated.

I knew he was lying.

He was lying about everything, and I knew because I had seen him.

But I didn’t want to drop the bombshell on him — not in front of Lily.

“How about you and Emma clear up the toys and Lily and I will start dinner?” I asked.

Owen sighed. I knew he wanted to do anything else but that. But I didn’t give him much of a choice.

“Are you angry, Mom?” Lily asked me as she took out all the veggies I needed for a stir-fry.

“No, darling,” I said. “Not with you and Emma, anyway.”

“Dad wasn’t home when we got here,” Lily whispered. “We had to wait on the porch.”

“I know, baby,” I said.

Because it was true — I knew that.

After dinner, Owen sat across the counter from me, eating ice cream. He started to complain about his day again.

I half-listened while washing the dishes. My thoughts were consumed by the revelation that was burning a hole in my heart.

Earlier that day, I stumbled upon a sight that would forever alter my marriage. Owen, the man I had married when I was twenty-two, in an intimate embrace with another woman in the city. It was supposed to be his day at home, and with the kids, but yet there he was—lost in another woman’s arms.

“I saw you today,” I finally blurted out, putting the dishes away.

“What? When?” he asked, confusion flickered across his face, quickly replaced by concern.

“Across from my office,” I said. “You weren’t alone, Owen.”

“You followed me?” he asked, dropping his spoon onto the counter.

“The tracker pinged, indicating you were nearby,” I said honestly.

We did install tracking apps onto our phones months ago when we took the girls to Disneyland for Emma’s birthday. It was a safety precaution in case we were separated.

Still, it pinged when one of us was near.

“I thought that you were going to meet me — maybe surprise me with the girls or something at work. So, I thought that I’d track the pin, and surprise you right back. And there you were.”

Owen froze, the color draining from his face.

“Mel, I can explain,” he stammered.

“Who is she?” I asked.

“Mel,” he said. “Let’s not do this. I can explain. It’s not what you think.”

But I didn’t want to hear any of his excuses; from what I had seen, it was exactly as I thought.

I didn’t want to entertain any of it. The image of his betrayal was so vivid.

Eventually, Owen left the kitchen, dragging his feet as he went.

After I packed the girls’ lunch for the next day, I got into bed.

Owen was asleep, snoring loudly.

I felt repulsed at the sight of him.

I thought about how I would explain this to Lily and Emma.

Emma, minus the tantrums, loved Owen. She loved that he got onto the floor and played with her. She loved that he would tickle her until tears streamed down her red face.

Lily, on the other hand, would be devastated. She was a mama’s girl through and through, but she always looked to Owen to protect her. In some ways, he was her knight in shining armor.

Was.

Now, everything was different. Owen had chosen another woman over our family.

I tossed and turned the entire night, uncertain of what I was going to do next.

I just knew that I didn’t want to be with Owen anymore. Seeing him with another woman had changed how I felt about him.

The next morning, Owen had coffee and toast ready and waiting for me.

“Talk to me,” Owen said. “What do you want to do?”

“I don’t know,” I said, truthfully.

And I didn’t. There was no winning in this situation. If I stayed with Owen, I would be miserable. If I left, my children would face the consequences of that.

All I knew was that Owen wasn’t the man I had married.

What would you do?