It was a regular Tuesday afternoon. My phone beeped with a text from my wife, Emma. We’d been married for ten years, our bond based on trust, love, and respect. But this text rocked our marriage.
“Hey, babe! Look at this!” she sent, with a pic. I expected a happy selfie. Instead, I saw Emma with huge new boobs. We’d never talked about this.
I rang her right away. “Emma, what’s going on? Why didn’t you tell me before doing this?”
She said breezily, “Oh, I thought it’d be a cool surprise. Don’t you like it?”
“A surprise? Emma, this is big-time surgery! How could you not mention it to me?” I asked, my voice quivering.
“I didn’t think it mattered much. I wanted to feel better about myself,” she answered.
Her words hurt. The trust we’d built for a decade was shattered.
A few days later, I knew I couldn’t stay in a marriage with such a trust break. Emma got defensive, saying it was her body, her call.
Our divorce was sad, but it showed a deeper trust problem.