I loved him.
And I no longer trusted him.
We started marriage counseling.
I didn’t immediately forgive him.
I didn’t immediately leave either.
For months, harmless sentences made me suspicious.
“Running to the store.”
Which store?
“Meeting Paul.”
Really?
“Working late.”
Prove it.
I hated what the lies had done to me.
Our counselor told Ben, “Transparency is not confession after discovery.”
He stopped waiting for me to ask.
He volunteered information.
He stopped deciding what feelings I could handle.
Slowly, trust became less like a light switch and more like physical therapy.
Small movements.
Repetition. Setbacks.
Lily became part of my life too.
Not as my daughter.
She has a mother. A good one.
Eventually, I met Denise and Tom.
It was one of the strangest dinners of my life.
At one point, Tom looked at Ben and said, “You know, for a smart guy, you’ve handled this like an absolute idiot.”
