That evening started like any other, until I overheard my husband, Malcolm, bribing our seven-year-old son, Miles, and telling him to lie to me. At first, he claimed it was about old letters, but something felt off.
I followed him the next morning and discovered he’d been secretly trying to meet a condition in his father’s will—he needed two children to inherit. He involved Miles without telling me, pressuring our family in secret.
When I confronted him, it became clear he saw me as an obstacle, not a partner. That night, I packed, woke Miles, and left. I wasn’t heartbroken—I was clear. I had loved the man Malcolm used to be, but I was strong enough to walk away from who he had become.