His Childhood Sweetheart Ruined My Marriage, So I Ruined Them Both

My husband's childhood friend, the one he always called "just like a sister," posted something on social media that only I could see.

"You can't break apart twenty years of friendship."

She'd even attached a photo.

Claude Simmons was lying across her pale, slender legs, their fingers intertwined.

That night, well past midnight, Patsy Dickerson called me.

She didn't say a word, but I could hear snoring through the phone.

"Claude fell asleep at my place after too many drinks."

"Don't wait up for him. You and the kid should just go to bed."

The next day, Claude came home. When he saw the look on my face, he frowned and immediately held out his phone.

"Go ahead. Check it. I have nothing to hide."

He turned and headed for the bathroom. "You keep this up, being paranoid about everything, and this marriage... it's not going to work."

My knuckles went white around his phone. My whole body trembled, and tears pooled at the edges of my vision. "If it's not going to work, then let's end it."

"You like spending the night at your sister's place so much."

"Then... I'll set you free."

"Let's get a divorce."

...

The air in the house froze solid.

Claude stopped mid-step.

He turned around and stared at me, disbelief written across his face.

"You... what did you just say?"

"I said... divorce."

After that, I took our son to preschool.

By the time I got home, Claude had already left for work.

I started packing.

He'd sent me a text: "I want braised pot roast for dinner tonight. We can talk about that little issue you brought up this morning."

When he got home from work, he saw the pot roast on the table, glistening and fragrant.

He smiled.

Then he spotted me coming out of the kitchen in my apron.

He slipped on his house shoes, walked over, and wrapped his arms around me. His voice went soft. "Babe, I knew you'd always give me everything I need."

"Marrying you was the best decision I ever made."

"Where's our boy?"

I pushed him away, my expression calm.

"You didn't make a mistake marrying me. But I made a mistake marrying you."

"He's in his room, playing on the tablet."

I set the last dish on the table, a plate of sautéed greens.

Then I scooped him another bowl of rice.

"Eat this meal. Then sign the papers."

"After today, we go our separate ways."

Claude had the pot roast halfway to his mouth. He froze.

His brows drew together sharply.

"I've explained this to you so many times. The company's been doing layoffs. The projects are brutal. I've been under a lot of pressure, so I went to have a few drinks with Patsy."

"I had too much and crashed at her place for one night."

"Nothing happened between us."

"There's nothing going on."

"How many times do I have to say it before you'll believe me?"

By the end, his voice had risen, his composure cracking.

I couldn't tell if it was genuine outrage at being falsely accused.

Or the hysteria of a man whose lies were unraveling.

But either way...

It didn't matter to me anymore.

When I said nothing, just sat there in silence, Claude nearly lost it.

"You're always like this! Suspicious of everything, every single day. I try to explain and you won't listen. If I were really having an affair with Patsy, why would I have married you in the first place?"

"Don't you think I would've just married her instead?"

A bitter laugh escaped me, the corner of my mouth twitching. "She was young and beautiful back then, so she married a rich man. If she hadn't gotten divorced, you wouldn't have even been on her radar."

Crash.

Claude hurled his bowl to the floor.

Rice scattered across the tiles, still steaming.

He looked like a wounded animal with its scars ripped open.

His eyes locked onto mine, cold and glittering with barely contained fury.