The days that followed blurred into legal paperwork, school drop-offs, and painful conversations with my children. The divorce was swift. We sold the house, and my share bought a modest two-bedroom home—a place where betrayal couldn’t reach us.
The hardest part wasn’t losing the house. It was watching Lily and Max realize their father wasn’t coming back. At first, Stan sent child support checks regularly, but by six months, the payments stopped. So did the phone calls. He had walked out on the kids as well as me.
