My ex's girlfriend

Well here's the thing: I was trying to get a hold of my ex on Saturday night and the phone was busy for hours.

My youngest son said, "He's probably talking to his girlfriend."

As far as I know, my ex doesn't have a GF. I mean, no big deal if he does. We've been separated for seven or eight years. I'm remarried – happily, thank you very much. So if he's got a GF, well, good for him.

Still, I'm nosey. "Who's his girlfriend?" I asked Sam.

"That Moonbeam, the girl whose parents make rings and stuff," he said.

Angus interrupted with, "That's not his girlfriend. They're just friends."

Sam sneered at him. "One day she called looking for Dad and he wasn't there so I asked who was calling and she said 'his girlfriend.'"

"Oh," said I.

So here's the deal with Mizz Moonbeam. I thought for sure (I still think for sure) that she was sleeping with my husband back when we were still married; back even before the affair with another woman that ended our marriage. He denied it, of course, but I was absolutely positive that this girl, who was barely out of her teens at the time, was screwing around with my middle-aged husband.

She worked with him at the hardware store. She taught my son figure skating. I had her over for dinner. Blargh. That's the thanks you get, I guess. Here's supper, here's my kid, here's my husband....

This one time, I had to work late so I told my ex that I would go pick the kids up from daycare, take them home and wait for him to get home from work so I could go back to work – that make sense? Sorry, it's complicated, I know. Anyway, he promised he would hurry home from work so I could go back and meet my deadline.

I waited for him. And waited. And waited. Hours were passing and no sign of him. No answer at the hardware store. Frantic to get back to work, I called my mother and asked her to babysit the kids until he got there. (Thank goodness for my mother.)

I drove into town and on the way to my office I passed the hardware store. There, on the street walking towards his car, was my husband; walking away from him was Mizz Moonbeam.

Furious, I asked him where he was and he said poor wee Moonbeam was having a hard time so he took her out for drinks. Just drinks, he said. A couple days later I found a receipt from that night – he hadn't just taken her for drinks, he had taken her for dinner, to one of the nicest spots in town.

But no, he said, he wasn't having an affair.

Now, apparently, she's his girlfriend.

If you were me, how would you feel about that? I'm curious ...