Days passed. His mother called again, this time to scold me. “You humiliated Alex,” she said.
I hung up without a word.
Then, Alex came back.
I wanted to believe him. For Sarah’s sake.
So I agreed to try — cautiously.
But something inside me had changed. My trust had cracked. And cracks, I’ve learned, don’t heal without truth.
So one night, while he slept beside me, I picked up his phone. I didn’t want to snoop. I needed peace. I needed reassurance.
What I found broke the last piece of my heart.
Messages.
To a woman he worked with. Romantic. Secretive. Whispered plans of a future — one that didn’t include me.
The Day I Walked Away
The next morning, I called a lawyer.
By the time Alex came home that evening, Sarah and I were gone. Emily welcomed us without question.
During the divorce, I kept the house. The car. Most importantly, I kept Sarah’s stability.
He pays generous child support. But the emotional debt? That’s his to carry.
Life Now: Healing, Slowly
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