I’ve always thought of myself as strong, independent, the kind of woman who could handle anything. Then Lyme disease hit. Fatigue, joint pain, fevers — I lost the ability to walk.
My husband David made me sleep in the guest room, telling me things I’ll never forget. “I CAN’T GET ANY SLEEP WITH YOU IN OUR BED!” he snapped. “I have to work to provide for us, and you just lie there all day DOING NOTHING!”
Every night, the same words.
All my life I did everything I could for my husband but he always seemed to be dissatisfied. Until one day…
Around 2 a.m., I woke to soft whispering from our bedroom. My heart froze.
No doubt, that was my husband’s voice… and another. “Hush… she’s sleeping,” he murmured. My stomach dropped.
Paralyzed with fear, I clutched the wall, dragging myself inch by inch across the carpet. Romantic music filled the room, hiding my movement. I was stunned with what I saw there… WAS I HALLUCINATING?!
And then I saw her. Someone I’d trusted, someone I’d confided in for years. I froze in the doorway, gagging down nausea, tears burning my eyes, and too terrified to make a sound.
But little did my husband know that he would never recover from THE GIFT I’d prepared for our anniversary. Let me take you back a few weeks. I had just gotten my hands to function well enough to type again.
I had regained a bit of strength in my arms, and with the help of my occupational therapist, I was getting better at sitting upright and staying conscious for longer than a couple of hours. I was still sleeping in the guest room, where he’d banished me after one too many nights of moaning in pain. But I used that space for something else now—planning.
What happened next changed everything… FULL STORY on the next page.
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