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I didn’t sleep well last night. Husband’s deceit is weighing heavily on my mind. He’s cheated on me with animals so what else has he lied about? Am I honestly the centre of his Universe? Is his name actually ######? Does swallowing semen really make you lose weight?
His response to my text about his infidelity was curt:

‘I’m not going to dignify that with an answer. Love you, see you later. xxx’


Practically an admission of guilt.  Yet I still love him.  Yes he’s cheated, yes he’s betrayed me, but I’m really fat, I can’t afford to be back on the shelf- health and safety would have a fit.
I manage to stop dry crying long enough to order the shopping online.  Sainsbury’s is taunting me and every ‘thank you message’ feels like a knife to the heart.  It’s not just Husband’s betrayal that is hurting… Sainsbury’s and I go back years- I do 6 ‘big shops’ with Tesco’s and it sets my Husband up with a Ginster’s Slag-Pasty; hardly fair.
It’s probably somehow my fault though, maybe if I brushed my hair more often this wouldn’t have happened? Perhaps if I used my immac on my bikini line instead of putting it in his baldness cure lotion…?  I suppose I shouldn’t really have deleted the Matrix from our V+ to make room for John Bishop with his beautiful floppy hair and plus size teeth?  I must change to save our marriage.  I will be a better wife and remind him why he loves me.
Husband texts while I’m polishing the skirting boards:

‘How’s u r day going?’

‘Busy cleaning and being a good wife and stuff. Please don’t leave me.’

‘Wtf r u on about? I am not going to leave u and I haven’t cheated.’

‘I have evidence. I understand tho, it’s all my fault, I see that now, I’ll be a better wife.’

‘Babe, seriously, what r u on about?’

I decide to stop being cryptic and confront him directly about the Ginster’s slag-pasty:

‘I know about Gin. Was she worth it?’

‘I don’t even know anyone called Gin. Why r u being mental?’

‘Not being mental, have proof. Don’t worry, will be a better wife so that you don’t stray again. I’m sorry and I love you etc.’

‘Not cheated. Don’t know Gin. No idea what u r on about. Love u the way u r- don’t go all fucking alter ego on me, I’ve had a hard day.’


Alter ego? Me???

‘Ok. Love you Husband. Let’s forget this and save our marriage. Going to weed the garden (even though it hurts my knee) so that you have less to do.’

‘FFS. Leave the plants alone, and don’t be mental in the garden, the neighbours already think we’re weird.’


Hmph.
After cleaning the house I decide that there’s no better way to remind Husband how much he loves me than by resurrecting one of the ‘Old Faithful’ games he so enjoys.  I think that the Silent Witness is probably his favourite (where I pretend to be a corpse and He has guess what killed me) so I set about planning my death.
Why Husband is pissed off when he gets home is beyond me.  I’m the victim in all this!
The house is clean and I went to loads of effort to make the Silent Witness game really convincing.  It might be that he doesn’t like the smell of Zoflora? It could be that he may have accidently thought I wasactually dead for a few seconds?  Or it may be, as he put it, that ‘I was being mental in the garden again’ when he specifically told me not to.
Either way, he won the ‘Silent Witness game’ in record time by correctly guessing that I’d drowned in the paddling pool while wearing my wedding dress.
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