I went to my son’s apartment with a duplicate key, convinced I was going to catch my daughter-in-law with another man. “Today this lie ends,” I thought before opening the bedroom door. But the woman inside wasn’t her: beside a bottle of champagne, I found my own husband after 32 years of marriage… and what I heard next was even worse.

PART 2

The young woman, whose name turned out to be Piper, scrambled for her clothes while Bernard sat frozen on the edge of the bed, the silk robe he’d sworn was lost in Columbus pooling uselessly around him.

“Thirty-two years,” Rosalind said, her voice eerily calm in a way that felt considerably more dangerous than shouting would have. “You’ve spent thirty-two years teaching me exactly how to lie convincingly, apparently.”