Gussie was gone for two days. I called in sick at work and spent most of the time wandering around the house, trying to calm myself down. I thought of calling him, but my pride got the better of me and I just collapsed and cried for hours, until I felt like my eyes are going to fall out.

I did not want to believe that after only five years of marriage my husband is now leaving me for another woman. The man I knew as the kindest, most caring person, my best friend, is now going to be with someone else.

I was just wondering how I ended up in the kitchen when I heard the door open. He just stood there, like he was afraid that if he moves, I’d run away. We stared at each other for a moment. Then I couldn’t hold it back any more.

“Where the hell have you been?”, my voice was flat. When I noticed his clothes I had a sudden moment of recognition, but the next second it was gone again. “What the hell are you wearing?”

“Abbie,” he said, trying to remain calm, “we need to talk.”

There you go. Of course we needed to talk. But I did not want to hear it.

“Is this about Emily?”, I felt defeated. I wanted to cry, but I had no tears left.

“How do you…?”, he looked bewildered. “Just sit down, please. I’ll make you a coffee.”

I wanted to say no, to shout at him, scream, or throw things around, but I felt my legs moving and then I found myself sitting at the table. As I looked at my husband, I suddenly felt ridiculous. He’s about to announce his new girlfriend to me and here I’m sitting, waiting for him to make met a hot beverage.

He placed the cup in front of me but I couldn’t bear the thought of touching it.

“I was at Ben’s”, he said when he sat down opposite me and placed an espresso in front of him. He did not touch it either. Pointing at the clothes he was wearing he added, “I borrowed these from him.”

I think he wanted me to say something. But I couldn’t. I mean, what are you supposed to tell your husband when he’s about to leave you? Ask him not to? Please. How pathetic.

“I’m the stupidest man alive”, he said when he realized I wasn’t going to say anything. “I should have told you when I started…”

“You should have… what?” I jumped to my feat, nearly knocking over my chair. “Are you saying you wanted your wife’s blessing on your little affair? It’s like you don’t even know me!”

He gaped at me. “Abbie, what on earth are you talking about?”

“Emily? Your secret love affair?”, I glared back at him. “You thought I would never find out?”

He stood up and took a slow step towards me. I backed away. Suddenly I felt that this is not real. He was smiling. What the hell is there to smile about? Before I could voice these questions he gave out a little laugh under his nose.

“You think I’m having an affair?”, he looked relieved. My stomach suddenly felt really tight. Why does he think this is so funny? But I was his turn again to speak. “Now that’s like you don’t know me.”

“But… your emails from Emily! Your late nights! The way you disappeared most nights…” I was blabbering. I felt hot tears burning my eyes, threatening to overspill.

“I wanted it to be a surprise”, he shrugged and looked somewhat embarrassed. “But after talking to Ben about it I realised I made a huge mistake. When I saw you digging into my emails I felt like you don’t trust me. Although now I realise you had every reason not to…”

“Gussie, what are you saying?”, I asked. It felt like I was spun around, not knowing left from right, up from down anymore.

“I wrote a book”, he said, the corner of his mouth twitching upward like he was trying not to smile.

“You… what now?” I asked, almost whispering.

“I did not want to tell you in case I fail. That would have been most embarrassing. I knew you would have supported me no matter what. But to admit to you that nobody thought my book is any good was not something I was prepared for. You keep telling me how good my articles are and I should try writing more. I did not want you to pity me. I worked on it after work, or when you were asleep, so that you won’t know. Then finally, about a month ago, a publisher was interested in my story. Emily. We met a few times and three days ago I signed the contract.”

My knees turned into wobbly jelly and my breath stuck in my chest for a second. I think I felt relieved but, I mean surely I did, but I was too numb even for that.

“So…”, I said tentatively, “there is no secret love affair?”

“Oh, Abbie”, he said, pulling me into a hug, “you are the love of my life! I could not look at any woman that way since I know you.”

Then the tears started flowing. I was laughing and crying at the same time.

“See? I told you, you should write a book… and finally you listened to me”, I said as he covered my face with kisses. “But don’t you dare exclude me ever again!”

“Never”, he promised, a huge grin spreading over his face.

We spent the rest of the afternoon talking about his book, his new contract, plans for the future. Then he read the first few chapters of Marshmallow Massacre to me. I’m probably biased, but it’s a damn good book. My husband does have talent when it comes to stories…

The next morning I went back to bed after breakfast to finish the book. I was nearly at the end when he plopped himself down next to me.

“I have an idea for the next book”, he announced.

It sounded promising.