The day before my work trip, a friend advised me, “Leave a voice recorder on top of the wardrobe and don’t return until evening.”
The voice recorder shook in my hands, a small, black rectangle that held the complete and utter devastation of my life. A familiar voice, my husband’s, came through the tiny speaker, smooth and intimate. “Hey, beautiful. Your husband is leaving on a business trip tomorrow.” It was Mike’s voice, the voice I had woken up…