After twenty-three years of marriage, I thought I knew every version of my husband.

Then one company party showed me a side of him I had never seen before.

And by the end of that night, I wasn’t just questioning my marriage.

I was questioning how much of our life together had ever been real.

My husband, Carl, and I had been married for twenty-three years.

We had two children.

A mortgage that was nearly paid off.

And enough shared history that I honestly believed there were very few surprises left between us.

Apparently, I was wrong.

Carl and I worked for the same company.

We had both been there around ten years, though in different departments.

I worked in operations.

Carl worked in regional sales.

Our boss, David, had known us for years.

He and his wife had been to our home for barbecues.

We had celebrated birthdays together.

Once, when our son broke his arm and Carl was out of town, David even drove us to the hospital because my car wouldn’t start.

So when the company announced an end-of-quarter party at a restaurant outside town, I expected the usual.

Bad speeches.

Too much wine.

Carl complaining about accounting.

Nothing unusual.

A few days before the party, Carl told me he needed to arrive early.

“I’m meeting Sheila there.”

“Sheila?”

“From my department.”

I knew who she was.

Twenty-eight or twenty-nine.