At 65, I found a passion for driving a taxi during my spare time. One day, my friend Jane asked me to drive her husband, Mike, to the airport. As we drove, he requested a detour to pick someone up. We stopped, and a young woman named Nicole got in, beaming as she greeted Mike with a kiss.

“Finally, you got rid of your old hag!” she sneered, and they continued talking about their affair. Mike explained his plan to stay with Jane for financial reasons, infuriating me.

I decided to take them back to Jane’s house. When we arrived, I honked the horn, and Jane came out, confusion turning to shock and then anger when she saw Nicole. Mike tried to lie, saying Nicole was just joining him on the trip, but Nicole smugly revealed the truth.

Jane’s fury was palpable. “After everything we’ve been through, you do this?” she demanded. Mike pleaded, but Jane cut him off. “Get out of my friend’s car and find your own way out of here.”

Jane turned to me. “Thank you, Al. You’ve shown me the truth.”

“Anytime, Jane. You deserve better,” I replied.

As I drove away, Jane waved with a sad smile. Back home, I started drafting an article about infidelity, realizing how often it hides under the guise of business trips or family emergencies. I was glad I hadn’t turned a blind eye, knowing sometimes it’s essential to confront the truth, no matter how painful.