From Divorce to Forever

This was the ninth time I had discovered women's clothing in my husband Carl Wade's storage cabinet that didn't belong to me.

Each time, he brushed it off with excuses like "holding it for a colleague" or "a friend's prank," then hugged me tenderly and apologized.

This time, what I found was a set of baby clothes.

He still smiled and explained, "A new intern at the company is struggling financially. I'm just helping her out."

I nodded and gently straightened his tie.

"You're always so kind," I said. "Then let's go help her together right now."

The smile on his face froze.