One pink line

One pink line on a stick. One pink line one pink line one pink line. What the hell was I seeing? My life as I knew it ended with one pink line. I had finally let it go too far.

When it came to my marriage bed, I was fastidious with the birth control. When it came to my lover’s bed, nothing was fastidious, especially birth control.

Allen’s reaction was predictable.

“Is it even mine?”

“Of course,” shocked at the implication.

“Well I know you’re sleeping with at least one other guy.”

Where was my outrage? Who had I become? I was weak and mindless. I did the only thing I knew to keep him from running away. I lied.

“I don’t sleep with anyone but you anymore. You’re the only one I want.”

“I already have kids! What makes you think I want yours too?”

I resorted to the other ammunition in my arsenal, I cried.

In the end he left his family, I left my husband and we were married in a civil ceremony two months before our daughter was born.

That is where this story really begins.