After fourteen years of marriage, everything fell apart when my husband chose his mistress over our family. She was a beautiful woman who seemed to carry herself with such grace.
I was in the kitchen making dinner when I heard the click of her high heels. I stepped out and saw them together. Stan and that woman.
She gave me a frosty look before turning to my husband and saying, “You were right, sweetheart. She really doesn’t take care of herself anymore. But she does have nice bone structure.”
In that instant, my heart broke into pieces.
“Stan, who is this woman that thinks she can talk about me like that in my own home?” I asked, my feelings all over the place.
“This isn’t your home anymore,” Stan replied. “I want a divorce, and I want you to leave.”
He sounded so cold, like all the years we shared didn’t matter to him at all.
I had to face the hard truth that my husband chose his affair over his family and kids.
I gathered my things and my children’s things and moved into a small apartment.
At first, Stan was sending us money, but eventually, he stopped helping us out and completely cut off contact with his kids. It felt like he had vanished from our lives.
I had a tough time juggling my kids, working two jobs, and keeping the house in order. But I discovered that I was way stronger than I ever imagined. My ability to bounce back became my best quality, and I was determined not to let my kids down.
Three years have gone by since the night Stan came home with his girlfriend and asked for a divorce.
I was doing really well and felt like I was in charge of my life. I had completely stopped thinking about Stan. Then, one day, I saw him and his new wife at a little coffee shop.
They both looked so different from how I remembered them. My ex-husband seemed tired and worn out, and his new wife didn’t have the same grace she used to.
As soon as he saw me, my ex-husband, the guy who left his family for someone else, rushed over. His expression changed, and it looked like he had a spark of hope. He pleaded with me to let him see the kids, the same kids he hadn’t bothered to see or call in years.
I explained to him that it wasn’t up to me to decide, and I would let my kids, who are now adults, know that their dad wanted to reconnect with them.
Then, his wife came out and started yelling at him for talking to me.
I just walked away, feeling good about it. Not because I was happy about their problems, but because my future and my life looked much better than what Stan had left behind.
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