I was surprised when I heard my husband’s car pull into the driveway only an hour after he’d left for work one Monday morning. When he walked through the door, our daughters, 5 years old and 18 months, ran to meet him. But his face didn’t light up like it usually did at their enthusiastic greeting. “Why are you home?” I asked. “Are you sick?” “No,” he said, eyes wide with fear and disbelief. “They let me go.” Today, after 34 years of marriage, we’ve lived through this scenario twice.