The Part That Hurt Worse Than the Affair
It wasn’t just that he cheated.
It wasn’t even that he lied.
It was realizing he used me — my labor, my savings, my overtime, my inheritance — to finance it.
I asked him, “Do they know about me?”
He didn’t answer.
And that silence was the confession.
I didn’t scream.
I didn’t throw anything.
I just shut down.
Because in that moment, I understood something clearly:
He wasn’t sorry.
He was inconvenienced.
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