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that you are eaten up inside.”
    “The counsellor,” I laughed harshly, “the man should have chauvinist stuck to the end of his name and pinned on his office door. He told me I was prone to overreacting and drama. Men will be men, blah blah blah. I thought he was supposed to be objective.”
    “I came to tell you that today I booked another counsellor. This time, a Christian marriage counsellor with countless experience at the job and numerous letters beside her name. We start on Monday.”
    “Oh … okay,” I conceded reluctantly. He was obviously making an effort, so the least I could do was meet him halfway.
    “Oh there is something else …” He cleared his throat. “I don’t know how to tell you this. I have fought with it for days.” His handsome face took on a lost expression. “Marie, I would do anything not to lose you.”
    My heart softened.
    “Marie this isn’t easy … ” his voice trailed away, as Timothy came running outside.
    “Mommy, look at this.”
    I looked up. He had a book in his hand, “I got an A for my science project. Here is the formula.” His face was eager as he sat between his father and me. “I already showed it to Daddy.”
    I hugged him tightly until he started to wiggle.
    “You are my brain child, you know that? Your father’s only son.” I kissed him on the top of his head. “Let me see that formula.”
    George looked slightly pained. It did not even cross my mind that something important was hanging in the air.
    *****
     
     
    The cellphone was ringing incessantly somewhere in the bed. Gosh, why did George leave his phone on, the one morning that she decided to sleep in, Marie thought. With her luck, it would ring all day and she would have to be holding court for George in the middle of her Marie day. No children, no husband. Just Marie. She groped around and found the telephone.
    “Hello.” Her voice was groggy and sounded ill-used.
    “Ahm … may I speak to George please?” The person on the other end sounded hesitant.
    “Who is this?” Marie asked, still half-awake.
    “It’s Karen. Just tell him it’s Karen.” She sounded frantic.
    Marie could barely speak. She knew that she was dreaming, that this was a living nightmare. After months of trying to get her life together and getting Karen out of her headspace she was calling George on his cellular phone.
    Was George crazy? Was he still seeing Karen?
    “I need him,” the girl was whimpering over the phone. “He is not at his office … ” Her voice trailed off.  “Who is this?”
    “His wife,” Marie answered crisply. Karen sounded as if she was in pain, but Marie did not want to extend any sympathy to George’s little slut.
    “I am losing the baby,” she whispered, “I need to have George here with me.”
    “The baby?” Marie asked incredulously.
    She heard voices in the background and the unceremonious slamming of the telephone. She got up immediately. No longer half-asleep but wide-awake. This was not happening to her. This was not happening to her. It was a prank call, staged by a very clever person determined to destroy her fragile peace of mind. Her husband did not get that girl pregnant and had known about it and did not tell her for six months!
    She got up like an automaton and reached for the telephone. George was at his mother’s helping her with her spring-cleaning.
    She listened to the ringing of the telephone and sighed when she heard George’s voice on the other end.
    “George.”
    “Hi, hon.” His voice was as smooth as honey.
    “Your girlfriend is losing her baby and she wants you there with her.”
    “Marie … ” His voice was hesitant. She clutched the phone for dear life hoping that her husband would laugh at her and tell her to stop it.
    “Marie, I…”
    “It’s true then?” She sat on the edge of the bed, her heart beating a mile a minute.
    “I wanted to tell you, but there was never a right time.”
    Marie could hardly breathe. It was not enough that Karen