My Son Invited Me to His Engagement Party — Then Introduced Me to the Woman Who Ruined My Marriage

That night, I packed a bag. Within a week, I’d filed for divorce.

Our son, David, was 22.

Old enough to live on his own, young enough that I still felt guilty dragging him into this mess.

“I’m not picking sides, Mom,” he said at a diner, hands wrapped around a mug of coffee.

“I’m not asking you to,” I told him. “I just don’t want you stuck in the middle.”

So I left the middle.

I rented an apartment, bought a secondhand couch, learned how quiet a place can feel when it only has one toothbrush.

I never asked who the woman was. I didn’t want a name.

Continue reading…