I stayed calm.
“You tried to replace me while I was unconscious,” I said evenly. “That isn’t family. That’s betrayal.”
Then I told Mark I was filing for divorce.
Not because of the trip.
Not even because of the woman.
But because he had chosen his mother’s comfort over his wife’s dignity—and that told me everything I needed to know about the rest of my life with him.
I left them there.
That night, I sat alone at an airport bar, refund notifications lighting up my phone, messages piling in that I never opened.
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