Michael and I have been married for six years. I always thought our life together was happy. One evening, we were cuddled up watching a movie on his laptop when a notification popped up: “Dear Mr. Bennett, you are invited to our annual company gala. You may bring a +1 (your spouse). Address…” Happy about it, I asked, “Oh, that’s great! We’re going together, right?” His face changed in an instant. “Trust me, honey, you wouldn’t enjoy it. Just boring speeches and accounting talk. I’ll show my face to my boss and come right back home.” Disappointment hit me, but I let it pass. That night, I kissed him goodbye as he left in his tuxedo. Still, something shifted inside me. Michael had been working so much that our evenings together were rare. Boring or not, time with him felt important. So, about an hour later, I drove to the event. At the entrance, I smiled at the receptionist. “Claire Bennett. I’m Michael Bennett’s wife.” He froze. “I’m sorry, ma’am, but Mr. Bennett has already checked in — WITH HIS WIFE.”
“No, that’s a mistake. I’m his wife,” I said firmly. The receptionist insisted his +1 had already gone inside and that I couldn’t enter. My stomach dropped. I looked around, searching for Michael. And through the glass doors of the ballroom, I saw him — holding ANOTHER WOMAN in his arms, kissing her as if I didn’t exist. I ran out, trembling, my heart pounding. At home, I cried endlessly. But before I could even think of a plan, KARMA STRUCK FIRST — BECAUSE AT MIDNIGHT, THERE WAS A LOUD KNOCK ON MY DOOR.