I trusted my husband Nick, but everything changed when I answered his forgotten phone and heard about
a “daughter” needing to be picked up. Confused, I found several calls to a school and followed him
the next Saturday. I saw a little girl run to one of his friends, not Nick.
That night, Nick explained Jake had borrowed his phone, and the school mistakenly labeled his number
as “Dad’s Cell.” I was relieved, embarrassed, and now we joke about his “secret family.”
I’ve learned sometimes anxiety just needs a good run to settle down.
