“The world as I knew it was over,” Vijay wrote to me. A forty-seven-year-old Anglo-Indian deli manager, with two kids, he’d just discovered an email that his wife, Patti, had sent to her best friend, containing a series of texts between her and her lover. “I felt like I was falling through dark, gravity-less space. I desperately tried to find something to cling to. But almost immediately she was changed. Me too. She seemed cold, retreated. She cried, but it didn’t seem like she was crying for us.”
