My husband sent me and our kids to a hotel for two weeks, claiming a rat infestation needed urgent disinfection. I trusted him—until I drove by our house and saw a woman inside, wearing pajamas and sipping from my mug.
Mark and I weren’t perfect, but we had our routines and two young kids who adored him. I never expected betrayal. When I confronted him, he admitted it—he’d reconnected with his ex, Sophie, and used the “rat problem” as a cover to play house with her in our home.
The worst part? He didn’t even tell her about me or the kids.
I kicked him out, changed the locks, and handed him divorce papers. He asked where he should go. I told him, “Try the hotel downtown—great pool, free breakfast.”
Now, two months later, I’m repainting the kitchen, rediscovering myself, and planning a fresh start. Healing, like real disinfection, takes time. But unlike his lie, this new beginning is real. And so am I.