My husband suddenly insisted we start going to church every weekend. When I learned why, I filed for divorce.
Brian and I had never gone to church in the 12 years we’d been together—not Easter, not Christmas. We aren’t religious. We have a nine-year-old daughter, Kiara, and Sundays were always low-key: sleeping in, pancakes, cartoons.
So when Brian pushed for church every Sunday, I thought it was a joke. It wasn’t.
He said work stress was getting to him and that church made him feel good—the message, the community, something positive to do as a family. It sounded sincere, so I supported him.
Church quickly became routine. Same row, same smiles. Kiara doodled during the service. Brian looked completely at home.
Everything seemed fine—until one Sunday after service, when Brian told us to wait in the car while he ran to the bathroom.
Ten minutes passed. No answer to my calls or texts. Kiara started asking questions, and I felt that gut-level unease.
I asked someone to watch Kiara and went back inside.
Brian wasn’t in the bathroom.
Then I saw him through a half-open window in the church garden, talking to someone—and with the window cracked, I could hear everything. ⬇️