The day I decided to teach Kyle a lesson, I woke up at dawn, the house still cloaked in the soft silence that comes before the chaos of morning routines. As I lay in bed, staring at the ceiling, memories of our early days on campus flooded my mind.
I first met Kyle in college. He was studying to be a programmer while I was deep into my law books, dreaming of becoming a lawyer. Our paths crossed at a coffee shop where we both sought refuge from our hectic schedules.
“Mind if I join you?” he asked, balancing a tray of coffee and snacks.
“Sure,” I replied, not looking up from my notes. He sat down, and before long, we were chatting like old friends. There was an instant connection, a spark that neither of us could deny.
“This is unacceptable! You can’t just neglect your duties and leave everything in disarray!” he shouted, his face turning red with anger. “I can, and I will,” I said firmly. “You made it clear that your money is yours alone. So, I’m making my own. This is just the beginning.”
“Chelsea, you took the kids? You can’t just disrupt their lives like this!” he protested, his voice tinged with disbelief.
“Disrupt their lives? Kyle, your attitude and actions are what’s disrupting this family. You can’t expect me to sit idle and let you dictate the terms of our life together. I’m doing this for us, for our future,” I responded.
My heart sank as the magnitude of his secret hit me. The financial stability I had trusted in was a fragile illusion. “How long has this been going on?” I asked, trying to keep my voice steady.
One evening as I stood in my office, the glow of city lights casting a soft ambiance, I couldn’t help but smile to myself. The journey had been challenging, but it had led me here: a place of strength and self-assurance.
