“It’s Not What You Think” (It Was Exactly What I Thought)
I didn’t sleep.
I couldn’t.
I lay on the couch all night replaying six years of “just a little longer” and realizing what I had actually been funding:
Tuition.
Rent.
Vacations.
A cozy living room I’d never sat in.
By morning, I confronted him.
He was pouring coffee like it was any other day.
I asked one question:
“Who are they?”
He froze.
The mug clinked against the counter.
Then he said the classic line, like he thought it still had power:
“Brooke… it’s not what you think.”
I told him what I found.
His face went pale.
He tried to shrink the truth into something manageable.
“It just happened,” he whispered.
I laughed — not because it was funny, but because it was insane.
“Six years of ‘just happening’?”
Then he said the sentence that finally killed whatever was left in me:
“You’re stronger. I thought you’d understand.”
Stronger.
That’s what he called it.
Like my strength made me responsible for carrying his double life.
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