and he’d used the hotel ruse to “figure things out.” He never told her about me or our kids. He thought he could live a double life. He thought wrong.The house? Legally mine, thanks to an inheritance. The security footage? All saved. The locks? Changed. The divorce? I
n motion.Two months later, I was painting the kitchen brown—Mark hated brown. The kids and I were in therapy, and slowly, we were healing. I was healing.Turns out, disinfection does take time. Not for rats, though. For betrayal. But at least now, I was cleaning up for real—and doing it for me.