I never expected to run into my ex-husband and his mistress after our divorce. The moment they saw me, they mocked my career, assuming I was down and out. Little did they know, I now have the upper hand.
Liam and I were married for three years. People called us “solid” and stable, but his true nature eventually surfaced. I wanted a safe, predictable life after a chaotic childhood—but I also dreamed of being a parent.
After years of trying, I finally got pregnant. His joy mirrored mine—until eleven weeks in, when I miscarried. I was devastated, numbed by grief, while Liam grew distant. I gave him space… maybe too much.
Then one day, returning early from grief counseling, I walked in to see leopard-print heels by the door and heard laughter I knew too well. There they were: Liam and my childhood best friend, Daria, feeding each other whipped cream. Shocked, heartbroken, and furious, I realized my worst fears had come true.
The story doesn’t end here—