My seven-year-old son crawled into my bed, shaking, and whispered that his father had a girlfriend—and planned to take all my money when I left. I quietly canceled my train, opened the notary’s envelope, and discovered the betrayal went far deeper than my bank account.

open hatred.

“You’ll regret this.”

Camille never looked away.

“The only thing I regret is trusting you for so long.”

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That night, Camille and Leo stayed at Claire’s house.

After Leo finally fell asleep holding tightly onto her hand, Camille cried silently for the first time.

Not for the marriage.

That had died already.

She cried for her son.

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