My husband’s mistress sent me this photo and wrote, “Yes, I’m the one who ruins your 42-year marriage and I’m NOT going to apologize! Your time is over. Now he is mine!” But just three weeks later, the same woman fell in front of me on her knees and, sobbing, begged: “Please SAVE ME! I had no idea who I was really contacting!”

Susan raised her head.

“Because of Robert, I almost lost the only person I wanted to live for.”

She opened the envelope.

Inside was an old photograph in which a young woman held a baby in her arms near the hospital.

This woman was me.

On the back of the photo it was written:

“Susan Miller. 1989. Thank you for saving my child.”

I took my breath away.

“Suzan? Is that really you?”

She nodded.

Suddenly I remembered everything.

Thirty-seven years ago, I lost consciousness while walking with my six-month-old son Michael. The young woman called an ambulance, took care of my baby and stayed close until Robert arrived.

This woman was Susan.

And now she’s my husband’s mistress.

“How could you do this to me?” I whispered.

Susan was torn.