I desperately rack my brain trying to come up with a plausible story, the guilt making me feel sick with the taste of these not yet spoken untruths. “I lost track of time”, “It took longer to finish the (insert word of choice: shopping, appointment) than I expected” and “I’m meeting a friend for coffee” have been worn out too many excuses ago. Suddenly I’m tired of all the deception, the lip service of commitment and the half-hearted attention I have been paying to this relationship for too long. I make a silent vow to change my ways: I will devote more time to you; I will ignore the lure of this new love; I will speak the truth. So I do: “I have been unfaithful to my cleaning duty, but I promise I will not “Art” today and I WILL do the damn housework”. (Yet, even as I think it, I taste the sourness of lies).