I just couldn’t be his wife.

We worked out custody. Money. Schedules.

Our son knows the kid version of the story.

“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.

But I’m building something new now. I have a job. A small apartment. A weird, awkward truce with my parents that we’re slowly turning into something real.

I don’t regret loving him. I regret that he didn’t trust me with the truth.