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The responses to my group text were everything I\u2019d expected and worse.
\nMy Mom: *Oh, honey. I\u2019m so sorry.*
\nHer Mom: *This can\u2019t be real.*
\nMy Sister: *Holy hell, Mark. I\u2019m coming over.*
\nJake\u2019s ex-wife, Michelle: *I KNEW IT. He did this to me, too.*<\/p>\n
But the best ones were from people I barely knew. Sarah\u2019s principal, her teacher friends\u2014people who\u2019d always seen her as this sweet, devoted wife. *I can\u2019t believe this. Poor Mark. What a snake.* The video had been forwarded, screenshots shared. By now, half our town had probably seen my wife riding my brother like a porn star.<\/p>\n
I drove back to my house Saturday morning. Sarah\u2019s car was gone. Jake\u2019s, too. Good. The spare key was still under the fake rock where we\u2019d always kept it, which meant she hadn\u2019t even tried to change the locks. Probably couldn\u2019t afford a locksmith without access to our accounts.<\/p>\n
Inside, the house looked like it had been ransacked. Drawers pulled out, closets emptied. She\u2019d taken everything she could carry but left behind everything that mattered. Wedding photos still on the mantle, turned face down. The expensive dishes we\u2019d gotten as wedding gifts, probably too heavy to move. The furniture we bought together.<\/p>\n
There was a note on the kitchen table, four pages long. Her handwriting, the same handwriting that had written me love letters in college. I skimmed it. *Mistake. Sorry. Didn\u2019t mean for this to happen. Can we please talk? I love you. Please don\u2019t destroy my life over this.*<\/p>\n
Too late for that.<\/p>\n