I called Julie late that night, after putting my two-year-old daughter to bed. My husband and partner of almost fifteen years had broken the news of his affair earlier that day and that night I faced going to bed without his warm, familiar body next to mine. He had packed a bag and left our home. Everything that I had trusted whole heartedly with an immense sense of safety and stability was rumbling underneath me. I feared the ground beginning to crumble and if I didn’t get help soon I might sink into a chasm of  dark hopelessness. She was a nursing mama at the time with infant and toddler girls at home. Julie answered my call, her voice hushed and groggy. She lay next to her husband in bed, her girls asleep nearby. I told her I didn’t know how I could handle sleeping alone tonight. Without hesitation, this dear friend gathered herself and left her family to  come be with me. She crawled into the space where my husband would be and held me as I sobbed myself to sleep. There was no more rumbling, just a sense of knowing I would be ok and that my feet would land on solid ground tomorrow.