I paid the bill and left. That's not punishment. She shook her head. You've become impossible. I looked at her.
And you've become comfortable asking your husband for permission to sleep with another man. Her face tightened. I told you what I want. I didn't say I was going to cheat. You already picked the man.
She didn't answer. How often have you been seeing Jacob? We've had coffee. How many times? Why does that matter?
Because you're married to me. She sighed. Three or four times. And you've been alone with him? Sometimes.
I nodded slowly. Does he know what you want? Angela hesitated again. Yes. That answer bothered me more than anything else she had said.
So, you've discussed sleeping with him before discussing it with me. It wasn't like that. Then what was it like? She looked away. I told him I was unhappy.
Did you tell him you were married? Of course. And he still agreed? Angela didn't respond. I walked into the kitchen and poured myself a glass of water.
She followed me. You could make this easier, Tom. I turned around. How? Let me have the night.
One night. Then we move on. I stared at her. Move on to what? Our marriage.
You honestly think I give you permission to sleep with Jacob and the next morning we're a normal married couple? You might be surprised. I am surprised already. She rolled her eyes. You've always been so rigid.
No, I have boundaries. Marriage isn't ownership. I never said it was. Then why are you acting like I belong to you? I stepped closer.
You don't belong to me, but I do belong to myself, and I won't stay married to someone who thinks I should accept this. Her expression changed. For the first time, she realized I wasn't negotiating. You're serious. Completely.
She stared at me for several seconds. Then her phone buzzed. She looked down quickly. I didn't need to see the screen. Jacob?
I asked. She slipped the phone into her pocket. It's private. I nodded. Fine.
I walked toward the stairs. Where are you going? To bed. You're just ending the conversation? No.
I stopped and looked back at her. I'm ending the marriage conversation. You already made your choice. She stood there silently. I went upstairs.
The next morning, I called my friend Samuel Reed before I went to work. Samuel had been one of my closest friends since college. He'd spent 12 years working as a detective before leaving the department and moving into private security. I didn't tell him everything over the phone. I only said, "I need you to help me find out how much of this has already happened."
Samuel was quiet for a moment. Then he answered, "Send me what you know." I hung up. For the first time, I wasn't trying to save my marriage. I was trying to understand what I was actually married to.
Samuel met me at a diner near my office that afternoon. He listened without interrupting while I explained what Angela had said. When I finished, he put his coffee down. "Do you want me to find out about Jacob?" "I want facts."