Two years ago, at thirty, my world nearly fell apart. I was mid-chemotherapy, battling cancer that drained me physically, emotionally, and mentally. My hair was gone, my appetite vanished, and even ordinary moments felt impossible. I thought the hardest part would be the illness itself. I was wrong. The hardest part was realizing my husband, Garrett, was someone I never truly knew.
The Day Everything Shattered
It was the week before Thanksgiving when Garrett walked in, fidgeting with his phone. “Mom invited me on a trip,” he said flatly. “She booked a luxury resort in Montana for our birthdays.”
My body ached from chemo. My stomach twisted in disbelief. “What about me?”
He avoided my gaze. “She… Evelyn doesn’t want you there. She said your illness would ruin the holiday.”
I stared at him in shock. He wasn’t just leaving for a vacation — he was abandoning me, in the middle of the fight for my life. A hollow, disconnected “I’ll call you when I land” was all he offered. Then he was gone.
Taking Control
Three days later, I called a divorce attorney. “My husband left for a luxury vacation while I’m mid-chemo,” I said calmly. Counseling? Not a chance. There was nothing to fix. Garrett had made his choice.
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