My husband and I go to the seaside every autumn. This year, despite the rising tour prices and the need for COVID certificates, I said to my husband:
— We should go anyway; we can’t break our family tradition because of some pandemic.
My husband appreciated my humor but refused to go. He said he’s working on an interesting project at the moment, one that could bring in a lot of money in the future. And since no one knows what will happen with the pandemic this winter, he wanted to focus on work while he had the chance.
— Fine, if you don’t want to go to the seaside, suit yourself, — I said and booked a tour to my beloved Turkey.
The vacation was wonderful, but somehow I ended up giving my husband the wrong return date. Or maybe I didn’t mention it at all—usually, we’d go on vacation together for two weeks, but this time I booked a trip for just ten days, so he must have miscalculated.
My phone died on the way back, so I couldn’t call my husband from the airport to pick me up. I took a taxi and got home on my own.
When I walked into the apartment, I couldn’t make sense of what was happening. Music was blaring at full volume, and I could hear voices coming from our bedroom. I quietly approached the bedroom, peeked through the door, and there, on our bed, was my completely naked husband kissing a completely naked woman I didn’t know.
— What are you doing?! What have you done?! — I screamed, my hysterical voice drowning out the booming speaker.
My husband jolted upright on the bed, blinking rapidly, while the woman immediately started scrambling for her clothes, dressing in a hurry—clearly not her first time in such a situation. Without thinking, I grabbed the first thing I could from the table and hurled it at my husband. It turned out to be a book, a rather heavy one, and it flew awkwardly, hitting him square in the head with a corner.
The woman was already at the front door, fumbling with the lock and nearly out of the apartment. The book fell to the floor after striking my husband’s head, and to my horror, he went pale and collapsed beside the bed. I rushed to him—he was truly unconscious. That’s when I called an ambulance.
The ambulance arrived, revived my husband, but after diagnosing a pre-heart attack condition, they took him to the hospital.
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