My Thanksgiving holiday kicked off with a very awkward moment at work.

It was near the end of the workday and people around the office were getting ready to head home to begin their long holiday weekend when the head of the company approached a few co-workers and me.

It was like a scene right from the crime fiction TV series "Columbo," where everything seems fine until at the last moment when Lieutenant Columbo (played by Peter Falk) asks the suspect that crucial incriminating question, cracking the case wide open.

After chatting for a few moments, he started to walk away when, at the last moment, he turned back around to ask me where I was going for Thanksgiving. I said in an uplifting tone that I would probably go to the Macy's Thanksgiving Day Parade. He was struck by the fact that I would not be sharing that time with family.

I explained to him that I had no family in the area and that I was going to visit them in a few weeks anyway so I had decided to stay in Manhattan. That didn't ease his mind.

Here's the awkward part: He then asked me, "What happened? Did your boyfriend break up with you?" Apparently, he forgot that I was married. I didn't know what to say, so I glazed over his question as I tried to reassure him that I was fine with staying in town for the holiday. The last thing I wanted was a discussion about my divorce.

He asked again, "Is that what happened? Your boyfriend broke up with you? How long ago did it happen?"

I just told him that it happened "a while ago" and finally was able to move off the topic. I never did correct him and say that I was divorced.

It is such an uncomfortable feeling when someone who doesn't know the situation asks such questions. I wanted to crawl under a rock and hide.

My heart pounding in my chest, I heard John answer the phone. Realizing that there was no delicate way to bring up the subject, I decided that it was best to just ask: Did he use protection, and was there any way this girl he was cheating with was pregnant?

I told him I was asking because he wouldn't break off the fling, despite insisting he didn't have strong feelings for her. It just didn't make sense to me.

He swore that he used protection, and that she was not pregnant — not that his word meant much. I interrogated him, but he insisted that was not the situation, so I just had to take his word.

It's been nearly a year since that conversation, and I have no reason to believe that John wasn't telling the truth — about that at least.

What stands out, though, is how I felt that day. The thought that my husband could have gotten someone else pregnant was terrible — it felt as though my life was on the brink of crumbling. In some ways, it was more painful than simply knowing he had been unfaithful.

I was lucky and wasn't dealt those cards, but I will never forget what a horrific feeling it was. It was a feeling I hope I never, ever have to experience again.

I had to go to a conference for work the other day, and as I was roaming the endless sea of exhibit booths, a nearly forgotten memory surfaced.

Late last fall, not long after I learned that John was cheating, I had to leave town for a few days to attend a business conference. It was hard being away in the midst of our marital issues, but there wasn’t much I could do about it. I packed my suitcase and did my best to focus on work for those few days.

On the conference's exhibit floor, I happened to pass by a booth for a company that manufactures pregnancy tests. At that moment, a dreadful thought hit me like a ton of bricks. Why hadn’t I thought of it before? Shaking, sick to my stomach, I darted back to my hotel room to call John. This wasn't going to be a conversation to have on my cell phone in public.

Back in my hotel room, I called John right away. I had to know right then and there: Was it possible this girl was pregnant? Could that be why he seemed so hesitant to break things off with her?

I heard John’s cell phone ringing on the other end. My heart was pounding so hard it felt as though it could have jumped out of my body. After a few rings he answered ...

The other day I was on a plane returning to Manhattan from a business trip in Florida and I felt a light tap on my right shoulder.

I turned around and found myself face-to-face with a guy who was sitting one row back on the opposite side of the plane. He was, I guessed, in his early 40s, and his friend sitting next to him looked at least 15 years younger. Both were average looking and neither were really my type.

The older guy, we'll say his name was "Tom," asked me if I swam or was a gymnast when I was younger. Baffled as to what he was getting at, I replied "No." He said he was just wondering because he was noticing that I had pretty defined upper back muscles (I was wearing a tank top) like a swimmer or gymnast would have. I told him I lift weights.

Well, that opened the door to a conversation so he started asking me a few questions like what did I do for a living? Did I live in Manhattan or Florida? Where am I originally from? I came to find out that he and his friend were in town from Florida for the weekend. He then asked me if I wanted to meet up with them the following night and go out for a drink or something. I politely said "Thanks, but no thanks" and began gathering my carry-on luggage to deplane.

As I grabbed my carry-on from the overhead bin, he said, "Between your eyes and muscles you are hot!"

Okay. Did anyone else hear the record screech to a halt because I sure did! Yes, I have sometimes fantasized about meeting a mysterious stranger on a plane or in the airport and experiencing some sort of love connection, but that comment wasn't exactly what I had in mind.

I guess it was nice to hear the compliment, but come on! They were going to see a Yankees game the following day, which I guess was fitting because all I heard in my head was, "You're out!"

UGH! So yesterday was one of those days when I felt like I'd learned about John's infidelity just last week versus nearly a year ago.

It started when I met a former boss for lunch. I hadn't seen him for years so when our paths happened to cross about a month ago, we agreed that we would meet for lunch just to catch up. While it was great catching up, my divorce naturally became a part, albeit a small part, of the conversation.

Then, when I returned to my office I ended up chatting with my current boss about various personal matters. The conversation ended up focusing on my ex and, before I knew it, I was telling her many details (though, not all!) about John's affair that I hadn't revealed to her previously.

Shortly after that, I was speaking with a co-worker about her pregnancy, as she is about eight months pregnant with her first child. Like most people in my office, she had no idea that I was divorced. She then started asking me if I was thinking about having a baby in the near future, if my husband wanted children, etc. I initially avoided the topic by just saying that I wasn't ready for children but she kept asking questions and I realized that it was best to inform her that I was divorced. I didn't tell her why, but I could tell she was fishing for some details. When she flat out asked me if John had been seeing someone else I said, "yes." Why lie?

By the end of the day I was mentally exhausted. It's almost impossible to imagine that one day my divorce will be so far in the past that it will sink to the bottom of my, and everyone else's, mind. I can't wait...

It's been four months since my divorce from John became final and up until now, only my close friends and family knew that my marriage had gone up in flames.

It isn't that I've been dishonest with people, but I wouldn't talk about it unless directly asked about marriage. I've taken the "don't ask, don't tell" approach. I don't know if I now have "divorced" stamped on my forehead but people-both strangers and co-workers-have made it a point in recent days to ask me about my love life and I, of course, have been forced to come clean.

The world is learning that yes, I am now a statistic.

It started a few days ago when a driver picked me up at the house to take me to the airport for a business trip. He's picked me up several times in recent months so he knew my house was for sale. That particular morning he asked me what my husband did for a living. I told him we weren't married. He replied, "Oh, your boyfriend." Obviously, I just needed to get to the point. "We're divorced, which is why I'm selling the house," I told him as he turned red and apologized.

Then during my business trip, the topic came up again on three separate occasions. On two out of the three occasions a few co-workers, who were also attending the conference, were nearby and learned for the first time that I'm divorced. The third time: A guy attending the conference shared with me the turmoil of his four-year divorce process which is expected to finally come to an end in August. I, in turn, shared a bit of my story.

While I know that it isn't my fault my marriage ended, it's still hard not to feel just a little embarrassed and ashamed. I feel like a failure...some days more so than others.

Does this feeling ever go away?