the jokes he had made around his birthday about getting old.
“So you lied to everyone.”
“I didn’t mean to at first.”
“But then you kept going.”
“I thought I could fix everything before anyone found out.”
Sheila shook her head.
“You promised me a clean start.”
“I wanted one.”
“Then you should have cleaned up your old life before inviting me into a new one.”
She picked up her purse.
And left.
I didn’t follow her.
I didn’t follow Carl when he walked outside a few minutes later either.
I stayed.
Humiliated.
Heartbroken.
But staying because I chose to.
Three days later, Carl moved into a short-term rental.
We told our children together.
There were no clever lines.
No dramatic speeches.
Just our daughter crying.
And our son asking,
“Why didn’t you just leave normally?”
Carl didn’t have an answer.
Sheila ended things with him within two weeks.
She
