Betrayal In A Care Package

My phone buzzed on the workbench, a welcome distraction from the failing painting in front of me.

It was Sophia, my wife, her voice sweet and composed, the way it always was for her millions of online followers.

She needed a "care package" for a wilderness retreat, a three-hour drive away, in a brewing storm.

I, the dutiful husband, agreed.

But when my beat-up sedan skidded and the box burst open, my world shattered.

It wasn' t camping gear.

It was a collection of expensive adult toys and delicate lingerie-things she' d never worn for me.