Infidelity

The key rested at the bottom of Grant's father's bedside trinket box, unassuming, taking up little space as though forgotten. Grant ran his fingers along the jagged edge. A house key. Nothing to distinguish it from any other, at least not until it found its lock, its home, a home not at this address. It did not belong among the belongings of a steadfast father and loving husband. Plainness hid its insidious nature, but Grant identified in the wear and rounding the reason for father's long work weeks.