Within an hour, I sat across from a divorce lawyer named Karen. She listened without interrupting as I explained everything.
“So you believe your husband is living a double life?” she asked gently.
“I heard him,” I said. “He said he’d stay there forever.”
“Do you have proof of infidelity?”
“I saw children. A woman.”
Karen folded her hands. “We can start proceedings immediately. You don’t need proof to file.”
“Let’s do it,” I said firmly. “I won’t wait around.”
She nodded. “I’ll draw up the paperwork.”
Walking out of her office, I felt both powerful and hollow.
“Do you have proof of infidelity?”
When I pulled into my driveway, I saw John’s car parked outside.
I stopped breathing for a second.
I should’ve changed the locks before going to the lawyer, I thought. Why didn’t I think of that?
I walked inside slowly.
John sat in the living room, elbows on his knees, staring at the floor. He looked exhausted.
The moment he saw me, he stood up.
I should’ve changed the locks.
“Emma, thank God. Please just listen.”
“No,” I said, but my voice cracked. “I went to the lawyer.”
His face flinched.
“I can’t believe you,” I continued. “Ten years, John. Ten years!”
John stepped closer carefully. “You’re wrong about what you saw.”
“Am I? Because it looked pretty clear to me.”
“Please,” he said again, softer this time. “Just sit down.”
I wanted to hit him. But instead, all my strength drained out of me.
I sank onto the couch.
“I can’t believe you.”
He sat beside me, leaving space between us.
“What you saw wasn’t what you think,” he began.
I crossed my arms. “Then explain it.”
He took a deep breath.
And that was when everything I thought I knew began to unravel.
“Then explain it.”
He looked at me as if I were standing on the edge of something dangerous.
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