I saw my husband spike my drink on our anniversary, so i did what had to be done. Don't judge me.

The crystal clink of glasses rang beneath a canopy of candlelight and low jazz, the kind that smoothed the edges of an evening. Laughter curled around the scent of roses and wind-kissed lake air. Julian leaned in, his eyes warm and practiced, and slid something into my champagne. He thought I didn't see, thought I'd smile like I always did and drink it down. But I picked up the wrong glass on purpose and handed it with a delicate smile to the woman he introduced as an old colleague. She smiled back bright and gracious. Tonight someone would taste betrayal,

Soma zaidi