It was just another day when I sent my husband a photo of me standing close to our neighbor’s horse. I didn’t think much of it at the moment.
I’d been helping out at the stables for a while, and Thunder, a gigantic black horse, had become my favourite. Despite his stature, he was gentle and caring.
However, when my husband viewed the image, everything changed. He zoomed in and scrutinised it several times before his message arrived—cold and unexpected.
“I want a divorce.”
I assumed it had to be a joke. But then he called, and the wrath in his voice was clear.
“How long has this been going on?” he insisted.
“What are you talking about?” I enquired, perplexed.
“The shadow,” he said abruptly. “On your back.” “Do not lie to me.”
I froze. Then I looked at the photo again and realised what he had spotted.
Thunder’s head and neck had cast a shadow on my back, giving the odd impression of a guy standing behind me, his hands around my waist.
In that instant, I understood what he believed. To him, it appeared that I wasn’t alone.
No matter how many times I told him it was only the horse’s shadow, he refused to believe me. His mind was made up, and no amount of reasoning could alter it. The vision had played a nasty trick, distorting reality just enough to sever his confidence in an instant. Not only was the snapshot broken, but so was our faith in ourselves. From that moment forward, he questioned everything, and no explanation could reverse the harm.
