When my wife texted me that she was in Las Vegas for a week, she didn’t add a heart emoji. She didn’t explain. She didn’t even pretend it was for work.
“I’m in Vegas for a week.”
That was it.
I stared at my phone for a long moment and felt something click into place — not anger, not sadness, but clarity. The kind you get when the last lie finally lines up with every other lie you’ve been ignoring.
I typed one sentence.
“Have fun with him. The divorce paperwork is ready.”
Then I blocked her. Everywhere.
That’s when the real story began.
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