My marriage with Logan was far from perfect, and the struggle to conceive only deepened the strain. The relationship took a sharp turn when Logan reached a new low, kicking me out of the house so he could bring his mistress in.
We had married young, and for a while, everything seemed ideal. However, over time, Logan began spending more and more time away from home. His gym became his new sanctuary, and every day, he came home later than the last.
I couldn’t shake the thought that my inability to get pregnant with his child was somehow the root of his behavior. I blamed myself and started to lose confidence in who I was, becoming a mere shadow of the woman I had once been.
One evening, Logan told me he’d be staying late at the gym, so I decided to take my friend’s invitation to hang out at a local pub. It felt like a small escape from the mounting stress of my daily life.
The night was a welcome break, and for the first time in a long while, I found myself laughing freely with my friend. It was a simple, joyful night—until everything changed. Her face shifted, and in a hushed voice, she told me to turn around, pointing out a man she thought was Logan.
I turned, and to my shock, it was him. There he was, laughing and chatting with a woman who was not me. The sting of betrayal cut deep, but in that moment, I knew my marriage was over.