Mark and I had been married for ten years. We had two wonderful kids, a shared mortgage, and what I thought was a steady, dependable life. I managed the household, raised our children, and supported Mark through every challenge. Sure, he wasn’t the most hands-on at home, but I told myself it was just our way of splitting responsibilities. We were a team—or so I believed.
That all changed one quiet afternoon.
I’d just come back from grocery shopping, arms full of bags, when I heard familiar voices on the front porch. It was Mark—and Emma, our 25-year-old neighbor. She’d recently moved back in with her parents, and they couldn’t stop raving about her interior design internship. I almost stepped out to say hello—until I heard their conversation.
I paused behind my car.
Emma laughed. “She hasn’t figured it out yet.”
Mark replied, “She’s too busy with the kids. Lexie doesn’t notice anything. She’s changed so much… not like you, my princess.”
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