Jack never took sick days, even when his mother died. So, when he slumped at our kitchen table one Tuesday, pale and coughing, saying he wouldn\u2019t work, I froze mid-toast. \u201cYou okay?\u201d I asked, tossing the burnt bread. He rasped, \u201cI feel awful,\u201d and I sent him back to bed, managing the kids alone.<\/p>\n
Opening the door later, I froze. A life-sized statue of Jack\u2014scar and all\u2014stood on the porch. The kids gasped. Then real Jack shuffled out, dragged it inside, and mumbled, \u201cI\u2019ll handle it.\u201d His haunted look silenced me.<\/p>\n
Noah handed me a note from under the statue: a woman named Sally claimed Jack\u2019s affair, demanding $10,000 or she\u2019d expose him. Shaken, I dropped the kids off and called a divorce attorney. That night, I found incriminating emails on Jack\u2019s laptop, screenshotting them.<\/p>\n
I contacted Sally; she confirmed the affair and agreed to testify. A month later, in court, her evidence secured me the house, custody, and the payment. Jack tried apologizing, but I drove off, leaving him with his statue and lies.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"