The Marriage I Thought I Knew
I’m Daisy, 33, mom of two, married eleven years to James—t
he man I thought I knew “down to the way he takes his coffee.” Life was simple: love, kids, a home.
The Secret Revealed
A month ago James claimed he’d joined a late-night “community patrol.”
But something felt off. Then came the call:
“Your husband isn’t on any patrol,” said Linda, the mayor’s wife.
“He’s with my husband… at the Riverside Motel.”
The Confrontation
Together we opened Room 237. James and Billy froze, shirtless and guilty.
James stammered, “It’s not what it looks like.”
I answered with laughter through tears. The next morning, I filed for divorce.
Life After Betrayal
I kept the house; the kids adjusted. Linda and I share coffee and wry jokes.
“Any regrets?” she asked. “Just one,” I said. “That I didn’t listen to the humming.”
Trust had dried up, but in its place, I found safety: “a life with loud yellow walls… and two kids who steal my socks.”
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