He really thought I’d doubt myself.
I didn’t argue.
I just stood up and said:
“I’m not carrying you anymore.”
For the first time, I didn’t wait for his response.
During lunch, I called a lawyer.
I sent everything: statements, transfers, recording.
By the time I got back to my desk, I had my answer.
We could move forward.
That same day, I texted Dan:
“It’s over. I expect you to be gone by the time I return.”
He called immediately.
“You’re serious?”
“Yes.”
“I’ve hired a lawyer.”
I didn’t go home that night.
I stayed at Claire’s place—Andy’s wife.
He had already left her.
Neither of us needed to say much.
My divorce didn’t take long.
The evidence spoke for itself.
The statements.
The transfers.
The recording.
And the other wives backed it up.
In the end, I kept everything.
Dan was ordered to pay back the money he’d taken.
My first night back in the house alone was quiet.
Everything was the same.
Except him.
A few days later, I got an email from work.
They’d given me a promotion.
It tied back to that meeting.
The one that sent me home.
The one that showed me the truth.
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