Here’s a much shorter version that keeps the emotional weight and key events intact:shop, stunned by how blind I’ve been.
It started on a flight to visit my family. I had my book and drink ready when a woman sat beside me. We exchanged polite smiles. Then I saw her name—Clara, my husband Oscar’s ex-wife. I’d seen their wedding photos before he boxed them up.
She recognized me too. “You’re Oscar’s new wife, right?” she asked. She said she’d seen me all over his social media—something he never did with her. Then she casually dropped a series of emotional bombs.
The house I live in? She helped design it. The flowers I get? He still sends her tulips every year—on her birthday, their anniversary, even after the divorce. She claimed he still calls her, especially after our fights. She knew things only Oscar could have told her.
I was shattered. Everything I thought was ours now felt like leftovers from their life.
When we landed, she turned to me and said, “I’m sorry.” And maybe she meant it. But I just walked away.
Now I’m staring at my phone, heartbroken. I texted him: “It’s over, Oscar. Talk to Clara.”
Because it wasn’t the flowers. It was the betrayal behind them.
What would you have done?
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