Mark and I were married for seven years. I was 34, a freelance graphic designer, and until recently believed our marriage was perfect. We were the couple everyone admired—laughing together, finishing each other’s thoughts, and weathering challenges… until his promotion party changed everything.
We’d struggled trying to have a baby, so when Sophie finally arrived, it felt like a miracle. She brought us closer and made life feel complete. Mark had just made partner, so we attended his work celebration together. Everything was going well—until Sophie loudly pointed out “the lady with the worms.”
She claimed the woman, Tina from Mark’s office, had “worms” on her bed. Confused and alarmed, I pulled Mark aside, but he brushed it off awkwardly. That night at home, he admitted he told Sophie they were “worms” to shut her up after visiting Tina’s place.
I knew then something was wrong.
The next day I met Tina, who confirmed an affair with Mark. I told her he was “hers,” and went home calm and certain. I filed for separation and divorce quietly, protecting Sophie and me. Mark didn’t contest it and soon moved in with Tina—though Sophie now complains about their fights.
I’ve healed. I sleep again, reconnected with hobbies, joined Pilates, and focus on Sophie. She once asked why Daddy doesn’t live with us anymore, and when I said it was because he lied about the “worms,” she said simply, “Lying is bad.”
And that’s our story.