It was an ordinary day when I sent my husband a picture of me with our neighbor’s horse. I thought nothing of it.
I’d been helping at the stables, and Thunder, a massive black horse, had become my favorite.
But when my husband saw the photo, everything changed. He zoomed in, stared at it repeatedly, then texted, cold and abrupt: “I want a divorce.”
At first, I thought it was a joke. Then he called, anger clear in his voice.
“How long has this been going on?” he demanded.
“What? What are you talking about?” I was confused.
“The shadow,” he snapped. “On your back—don’t lie.”
Then I saw it: Thunder’s shadow cast on my back, forming a silhouette that looked like a man’s arms around my waist.
He believed I wasn’t alone. No explanation could change his mind. The shadow had distorted reality, shattering his trust. From that moment, doubt ruled, and nothing I said could undo the damage.
