It began so subtly I almost ignored it—a faint odor clinging to my husband. At first, I blamed detergent or sweat, but as weeks passed, the smell turned sour and unsettling. My husband, usually meticulous about hygiene, brushed me off when I mentioned it. Still, when coworkers started joking about it, I knew it wasn’t my imagination.
I scheduled a doctor’s visit despite his protests. In the exam room, the truth spilled out. He admitted he’d cheated—“just once”—while drunk, without protection, and now carried a venereal infection. The smell that haunted me wasn’t random; it was the stench of betrayal.
What cut deepest wasn’t just the affair, but his silence. He never intended to tell me—the truth only came out because I pressed. Leaving the clinic alone, I realized my gut had been right all along. Trust was broken, and forgiveness felt impossible. But one thing was certain: I would never again doubt my instincts.