Since then, Spencer rarely came home and when he did, he always had an excuse.
"Lucy’s sick again," he’d say nonchalantly, as if it were the most natural thing in the world to leave his wife to care for his so-called "sweetheart."
Lucy Rivera was his high school crush, a beautiful girl with fair skin, long legs and an enviable background. Spencer had chased her back then, but she had rejected him time and time again.
Ironically, Lucy and I had shared a dorm in college and I never suspected how much their dynamic would haunt me later.
Spencer and I had known each other since we were children. When it came time to marry, we agreed quickly, perhaps too quickly.
Now, everything felt different. Spencer had changed, or maybe he’d always been this way and I just hadn’t seen it.
Whenever he went out, he never invited me along. At first, I didn’t mind. I had always been socially anxious, preferring solitude to the pressure of meeting new people.
But as time went on, his absences became more frequent. He didn’t even bother to hide it anymore. He would disappear for days, always under the guise of taking care of Lucy.
I didn’t know how much longer I could take it.