Chapter 1: The Unraveling

After seven years of marriage, my husband, Mark Harris—the City Councilman—hired a female tutor for our two kids.

He explained, "I just figured it’d be weird having some guy around the house all the time, you know?"

His tone was offhand, as if this was simply how things should be. The logic made sense, but a tight knot twisted in my stomach. Still, wanting to support another working woman—especially one I was trusting with my kids—I doubled her salary. It felt right, a small act of solidarity.

Every day, I made sure the kids had plenty to eat and warm clothes, always anxious they might be hungry or cold. On those icy winter mornings, I’d be up before sunrise, packing homemade muffins in their lunchboxes and slipping wool hats into their backpacks. No one could accuse me of neglect—not after all the early mornings and sweet notes tucked in jacket pockets.

Then, on the tutor’s birthday, my husband secretly took the kids out to a family restaurant to celebrate with her. The alert from our shared credit card buzzed while I was sorting laundry, but I brushed it off—until that night, when the kids burst in with ice cream stains and party hats.

That’s when it hit me: the tutor was Mark’s childhood sweetheart—his ex, Dana Lane, the one who’d been through tough times with him. I put it all together from an old Facebook photo the algorithm dug up—a memory of Mark’s eyes, lit up in a way I hadn’t seen in years.

Even my own children helped keep the secret. Their little faces, bright with excitement and edged with guilt, told me everything.

"Dad, when are you going to marry Miss Lane? Then we’ll all be a family!"

"Mom is always at home bossing us around. She never lets us do anything fun. Miss Lane’s way cooler than Mom."

Carter’s voice was loud and laughing, echoing down the hallway like a punch to the gut.

"In a few days, I’ll file the paperwork so she can be my wife too. I can’t let your mom keep giving Lane a hard time."

"You’re the best, Dad!"

The world spun. I heard their words as if I were underwater, the room tilting around me. My heart pounded in my ears, hands shaking as I tried to steady myself.

I stood outside the door, feeling like my heart had just been ripped from my chest. My fingers clutched my phone so tightly my knuckles turned white. Swallowing hard, I turned and walked straight out the door, not caring about stoplights as the city skyline blurred through my tears. I headed for City Hall and my Aunt Carol, the mayor.

"Aunt Carol, please help me file for divorce!"

"But what about your two children?"

Memories of Mark mentioning his past, of moments I thought we’d shared, flickered through my mind—how much had I never known? My chest tightened, and I realized how much I’d been kept in the dark. My heart pounded, hands trembling as I forced myself to speak.

I stared at the carpet, biting the inside of my cheek to keep from crying. My throat burned. I raised my head, eyes shining with tears, and replied, "I don’t want custody of either of them." My voice was just above a whisper, but every word was final.