We hired a lawyer.
Divorce was messy. I didn’t want him as an enemy. I just couldn’t be his wife anymore.
We worked out custody. Money. Schedules.
Our son knows the kid version.
“Dad made a big mistake a long time ago,” I told him. “He lied. Lying breaks trust. Adults mess up, too.”
I still cry sometimes.
I still miss the life I thought I had.
I don’t regret loving him.
I regret that he didn’t trust me with the truth.
Now I’m building something new—a small apartment, a steady job, and a fragile truce with my parents that we’re slowly turning into something real.
If there’s a lesson in all this, it’s this:
Choosing love is brave.
But choosing truth? That’s how you survive.
