I thought we had a good marriage. We had no children, by mutual decision.

We both worked, though Jake was much more successful in his career than I was. Ultimately, we decided that we didn’t really need my income, so I retired to a life of semi-leisure, making our house a show place and hosting Jake’s associates for various functions.

I also donated time to all the “right” causes. All-in-all, life was perfect, apparently TOO perfect.

I noticed that Jake seemed to need to work late much more than he formerly did. I found this a bit odd, because I thought that after all his hard work he’d be able to cut back a bit.

One day I dropped by his office and noticed that his long-time secretary wasn’t there. In her place was a much younger woman. Maybe I was just a jealous wife, but the only word that I could find to describe her was “bimbo.” When I walked in, she was sitting at her desk doing nothing but filing her nails.

I walked up to her and asked if Jake was busy.

“Do you have an appointment?” she asked.

“No, I don’t need one,” I said.

“Mr. Tapper doesn’t see anyone without an appointment,” she said with a snotty attitude.

“Not even his WIFE?” I asked as I strode past her desk, walking right into Jake’s office, ignoring her shocked expression.

Jake nearly jumped out of his seat when he saw me, quickly closing his computer screen. I immediately noticed that the picture of me that used to be on his desk was missing, and something else was missing as well: his wedding ring!

“Where’s your ring, Jake?”

“I ... It was irritating my finger,” he said.

“And my picture? Just what was THAT irritating? Or was it just cramping your style? I wonder what I’d find if I opened up your screen, but frankly I don’t really care at this point,” I said, and turned on my heel and stormed right past “Bambi,” or whatever her name was.

Now that his infidelity was exposed, it didn’t take long for the divorce papers to arrive. After 20 years of marriage, he was leaving me for the little slut. It so happened that she desperately wanted to live in our million-dollar mansion, and since Jake could afford better and more ruthless lawyers, he got to keep the house.

I was given just three days to pack my things and leave the house. The first day I used to pack my things into boxes. On the second day, the moving company came and transported my things to my new apartment.

On the third day, I enjoyed one last meal in my favorite room, the large and beautiful parlor. I lit a few candles, put on some background music, and treated myself to a small feast: a plate of shrimp with caviar and a bottle of champagne of the highest quality.