Warm My Frozen HeartWhen my wife's lover changed the locks on our house for the ninth time and locked us out again, there was finally a hint of irritation on her face.
I, on the other hand, calmly reassured her. "He's young. He doesn't know any better. Don't get worked up over it."
Yvonne Fisher, who was about to break the lock open, froze mid-swing and turned to stare at me.
"Aren't you angry?"
I was at a loss for words. Throughout our five years of marriage, things like this had happened so often that if I'd kept getting angry, I would've died from it by now.
Besides, my own lover was just as much of a handful.
All I felt for Yvonne was sympathy.