It had been a difficult few months for Jennie, ever since she'd walked in from work to find her husband and best friend fucking like wild animals on the living room couch. She hadn't waited for explanations or excuses, simply packed her bags and moved out that night.
After that she'd spent an embarrassing couple of weeks lodging with friends and family, staying in motels and desperately trying not to get fired but eventually she'd finally managed to find herself a comfortable little apartment not too far from work and with neighbours who while not exactly friendly at least respected her privacy and were polite enough when passing in the hallway.
Now that she was settled in as a technically single girl once more, while awaiting her divorce papers to be processed, Jennie found herself at a loose end. Work was just busy enough to keep her occupied during the day and tired enough not to be able to socialise at night. Not that many of her friends wanted to socialise at the moment, caught in that difficult middle ground between the betrayer and the betrayed and unsure which of the couple they should now be supporting. Most nights Jennie simply curled up in front of the television and let herself drift off to sleep.
The fateful night that changed her life began just that way, with a quiet doze in from of the tube.
It was late, very late, when Jennie shocked herself awake. She was laid back in her recliner, tucked in with a blanket and an empty ice cream tub, the flicking television screen still flashing up images across from her. For a few seconds she tried to remember what it was she was watching before attempting to reconcile the recollections with the story unfolding on the screen now. She thought she'd been watching a re-run of a period-based drama series but now the show appeared to have two modern women arguing about something, and she had to admit that she'd obviously been asleep far longer than she'd thought.