Desperate to reconnect, I suggested a weekend getaway, but he shrugged it off with a “Raincheck?” without even looking up.
Then, one morning, everything fell apart.
I found him asleep on the couch, his phone buzzing with bank alerts—our entire savings had been drained, transferred to an unknown account. When I confronted him, his stammering explanation stunned me.
He admitted to an affair with a coworker, now pregnant. Her family had been pressuring him for money to keep it quiet, and in desperation, he had emptied our accounts.
My father, who was with us, broke the silence, his voice calm but firm: “This is extortion. We’re going to the police.” Jason protested, fearing retaliation, but my father was resolute, already arranging an investigation.
In the days that followed, the weight of Jason’s betrayal settled over me. My father, a steady presence by my side, offered a gentle reminder: “You know you can’t stay with him. He doesn’t deserve you.”
The next morning, I told Jason I was filing for divorce. Though he begged for another chance, the damage was done. As he packed his things, I felt relief. Our marriage, built on lies, was over, and I was finally free to rebuild my life.