One ordinary day, I sent my husband a picture of me standing with our neighbor’s horse, Thunder—a massive, gentle black horse I’d grown fond of while helping at the stables. I thought nothing of it at the time.
But everything changed when he saw the picture. He zoomed in, scrutinizing it, and then his message came: “I want a divorce.” At first, I thought he was joking. But when he called, his anger was unmistakable. “How long has this been going on?” he demanded. “What are you talking about?” I asked, confused.
“The shadow,” he snapped. “On your back. Don’t lie to me.” Looking again, I saw what he meant: Thunder’s head and neck had cast a shadow that looked like a man standing behind me, his hands on my waist. Despite my explanations, he refused to believe me. The shadow played a cruel trick, creating an illusion that shattered his trust in an instant. From that moment, he questioned everything between us, and no amount of reasoning could repair the damage.
