Life is like a rose. Just always remember to focus on the petals and not the thorns. Those words belonged to my therapist, but I focused too much on the beauty and not enough on the pain. Now, life has taken upon itself to rip the blindfold from my eyes and show me the thorns; the ugly, painful thorns. Want to know what those thorns were? The sight of another man's hands touching my wife and not any man...my brother.

They stop the moment they feel my eyes on them. My wife hastily pushes my brother off of her, but its too late. The image has already been burned into my memory. Her green eyes fill with guilt, but my brother seems unfazed by all this, nonchalantly getting off the bed and putting on his clothes.

"I'm sorry...Kevin," my wife manages to say.

"How long? How long has this been going on?" I ask, feeling my voice begin to shake. I try to suppress the shakiness, but the trembling has already spread to my hands. The shamed expression on my wife's only encourages the trembling.

"Six years," my brother answers flatly, staring at me through cold, brown eyes. His words steal any strength from my legs. I vaguely watch my wife jump to her feet to keep me standing, but my mind is too consumed in dangerous thoughts to fully process her actions. Six...years? This wasn't just a one time thing. That's most of our marriage.

"Kevin, look at me. I'm sorry," my wife pleads, her words breaking through my subconscious to reach me.

"Don't touch me," I protest, pushing away her help. Instead, I clutch onto the dresser like a lifeline. She flinches at my words as if being slapped, but my own pain keeps me from feeling any remorse. That same pain keeps digging itself deeper into me until its triggered something I haven't experienced since high school: a panic attack. My chest tightens until I am gasping for breath as if being suffocated. Tears burn my eyes as giant droplets slide down my cheek, one after the other. The roaring of my own ears drown out any voices. My mind races in a million different directions until it suddenly stops at one question.

"Did you ever love me?" I blurt out, taking my wife by surprise. "Answer me honestly. I deserve that much." The power of my words is greatly overshadowed by the trembling of my voice. The way her eyes darken causes my heart to finish the same race my mind started. She opens her mouth to respond, but is silenced by the presence of a hand on her shoulder. My brother's hand.

"Tell him the truth," he says. I search his brown eyes for any kind of guilt, but only find the cruel realization that this affair's foundation was hate and not love. What did I do to make him hate me this much? The heavy sigh escaping from my wife's lips brings my attention back to her.

"No, I didn't love you. I never did. I just loved the attention you gave me. When I realized that, we were already married. I never wanted to hurt you, Kevin, but Gil made me feel something you were never able to make me feel," she responds, nodding towards my brother at the mention of his name. A new feeling invades my mind and clouds my judgement. Anger.

"I loved you, Misty. I always loved you. This marriage was one of the most important things in my life," I stutter, my voice barely a whisper. Misty's eyes soften, lowering her head in shame. "Since you took something that was important to me, I'm going to take something that is important to you. Our children." My threat, no promise, leaves the room silent and freezing. I inwardly relish the look of shock on her face before it turns to rage.

"You're going to take our children? Who said they were yours? If you haven't noticed, they could be Gil's!" Misty shouts. The thought of my three, beautiful daughters having a different father intensifies my panic attack, but I push forward.

"I don't care! Those girls will always be my daughters!" I shout back.

"Okay? So what if they are yours? You think you can take care of them?" she laughs bitterly.

"I know I can and I will. After this divorce is finale, you will never see them again," I say, venom oozing from each word. She bites her lips in frustration and realizes she's taken the wrong direction. Lowering her voice and softening her features, she attempts to push down her reckless anger.

"Kevin, darling, what I did was wrong. I admit that, but please don't punish the children. Everyone can see I can give them a better future. I mean, look at yourself. You've gone back to how you were in high school; an anxious mess. Plus, I'll let you see them all the time," Misty says kindly.

"First of all, I am not your darling," I growl, spitting out the word like it was poison. "And second of all, what I said doesn't change. You should say goodbye to your children now because they won't be yours for much longer."

With those last words, I take one last look at her hurt features and rush out of the room. I leave the house, not having a destination. I feel a twinge of guilt, but not enough to go back on my threat. The memories of our marriage flashes within my mind, but its tainted by her betrayal. This fight ended the life that I had grown accustomed to and began a new chapter of an unfortunate life that I was already too familiar with. The blissful ignorance of the petals was over, now all that remained was the painful presence of the thorns.