He Let Me Burn My Life Down
“And the grandparents’ story?” I asked.
He swallowed.
“I panicked,” he admitted. “I knew you. I knew if you thought I was innocent, you’d stay. You’d fight for me.”
“And if I knew the truth…”
I finished it for him.
“I might have left.”
He nodded.
That’s when something in me snapped clean in half.
“So you lied,” I said. “You let me think you were an innocent victim. You let me choose you over my parents based on a lie.”
He sobbed.
“Every year it got harder to tell you,” he whispered. “I hated myself. But I couldn’t risk losing you.”
I turned to my mother, voice shaking.
“How do you know this?”
She exhaled.
“I ran into Jenna,” she said. “She looked awful. She told me she thinks God is punishing her.”
My mom’s voice cracked.
“So I asked… punishing her for what.”
Then she looked at my husband with something like disgust.
“And she told me.”
Of course Jenna confessed.
Of course my mother hunted proof.
I felt like the floor tilted under me.
My husband reached for me.
I stepped back.
My voice came out calm in a way that terrified even me.
“I need you to leave.”
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