After Divorce: Ex-wife Never Turns Back

Emily's POV

I was packing my husband's suitcase and found a box of used condoms in the pocket.

I open the box and find only four condoms even though the box says it's a pack of six. A wave of nausea washes over me as I sink onto the floor in disbelief - I'm afraid of what this means. 

Ten years of good, solid marriage. We’d gotten comfortable, perhaps too comfortable, but still, I thought we had true love. Louis wouldn’t throw it all away on some random business trip, right?

“Babe? I’m home!” Louis’ voice rang through the house, smooth and confident, like it always did. I shoved the box back into the suitcase pocket with shaking hands, snapped the zipper shut, and forced myself to stand.

I met him in the foyer, where he dropped his briefcase and smiled, that wide, boyish grin that once made me weak in the knees. “Hey, there’s my girl.” He pulled me into his arms, and I stiffened before I could stop myself. His cologne, the one I’d picked for him years ago, smelled cloying now—familiar, but wrong somehow.

“Hey, I love you,” he murmured, pressing his lips to mine. It was slow. Gentle. Perfect.

Perfect. The word made me want to scream.

When he pulled back, I managed a whispered, “I love you, too.” It wasn’t a lie. God help me, I still loved him. Maybe that’s what made this sting so much.

Louis flashed another grin. “Dinner’s on me tonight. Special occasion and all.”

Right. Our tenth anniversary. A day we were supposed to celebrate, but now I felt like a ghost in my own home.

He turned toward the kitchen, loosening his tie. “Oh, check my suit jacket pocket,” he called over his shoulder. “There’s something in there for you.”

A gift.

My stomach twisted as I walked to the couch where his jacket was draped. My hand hesitated before slipping into the pocket, half-expecting to find something I couldn’t handle. Instead, I pulled out a small velvet box—neat, pristine, tied with a golden ribbon.

But as I held it, something else clung to my fingers—soft, delicate. I brought it closer and saw it for what it was.

A strand of blonde hair.

I don’t have blonde hair.

My throat closed. The perfume hit me next—a faint floral scent, lingering on the fabric. I inhaled sharply, almost gagging. It wasn’t mine. It didn’t belong here.

I untied the ribbon, hands trembling, and lifted the lid. Inside was a diamond necklace, small and dazzling. If I’d opened it yesterday, I would’ve cried from joy. Today it felt like a bribe.

“You like it?” Louis called, his voice light and warm. “Hope it’s the right style.”

I couldn’t speak. The walls felt too close. My chest tightened. “I… I’ll be right back, I forgot I was supposed to drop something off at Mrs. Smith’s,” I mumbled, barely hearing myself. Mrs. Smith was a kind woman who lived just up the street that I would often chat with on my walks. A perfect excuse to get out of there.

“What?” Louis appeared in the doorway, frowning slightly. “Now? I thought we’d order in, celebrate properly—”

“I’ll be right back,” I cut him off, avoiding his eyes. I grabbed my bag and opened the door, needing to escape before my legs gave out.

I pulled out my phone and dialed Maya.

“Emily?” Her voice was bright, almost too cheerful.

“Hey, Maya,” I said quietly, my voice raw. “I… I think something’s going on with Louis.”

There was a pause. “What do you mean?” she asked, tone sharp now.

“I found a box of condoms in his suitcase,” I admitted, feeling shame heat my cheeks even though she couldn’t see me. “And perfume on his suit jacket. There’s… there’s blonde hair on it, Maya. I don’t know what to think.”

“Perfume? Hair?” Maya laughed, though there was no humor in it. “Emily, come on. You’re overthinking. Louis has been working himself to the bone lately. Do you really think he has the energy for an affair? It’s probably nothing.”

“But—”

“Stop,” she snapped. “Don’t ruin your anniversary with… whatever this is. He loves you. Isn’t that enough?”

 “It doesn’t feel like enough,” I whispered, a fist forming in my pocket.

“Well, it should be,” Maya replied curtly. Then the line went dead.

I stared at my phone, disbelief knotting in my stomach. Maya had never spoken to me like that before. But something in her voice… it didn’t sit right. Like she was trying too hard.

A passing car pulled me from my thoughts. Louis was undoubtedly suspicious. I turned back toward home, but dread pooled in my gut. I had no answers—only doubts. When I walked through the front door, the house felt quieter than before. Louis was upstairs, his footsteps moving lightly across our bedroom floor.

By the time I joined him in bed later that night, I was too exhausted to confront him. I slid beneath the covers in silence. Louis shifted, turning to me, his arm pulling me close.

“Good night, love,” he murmured sleepily.

I stared at the ceiling, the image of that box burned into my mind. Two missing. Two.

Louis’s arm was warm around me, comforting in its familiarity. I let him hold me, even as every instinct told me to run.

At least for tonight, I stayed.

At least for tonight, I let myself pretend we were still perfect.