Chapter 1: Betrayal in Broad Daylight

In our fifth year of marriage, my wife cheated on me.

Those words still rattle around in my head, sharp as broken glass. Five years. Sometimes it feels like it flashed by in an instant; other times, it drags on like a whole damn lifetime. Funny how anniversaries don’t mean a thing when it comes to betrayal. It just hits when it hits, no warning, no ceremony.

I asked for a divorce, but she just shrugged, like I’d suggested ordering takeout. “Oh, come on. I know you can’t actually leave me—and you sure as hell can’t leave your little girl behind, right?” She tossed that last part at me, almost as an afterthought, like she was daring me to prove her wrong.

She said it so offhand, like we were talking about the weather. There was this little smirk on her lips—used to be playful, now it just hurt. She leaned back against the kitchen counter, arms folded, and her eyes were cool, almost bored. Not a flicker of worry. If anything, she looked amused, like she was waiting to see what I’d do next. That stung in a way I can’t even explain.

My little girl.

The words hit me hard. My little girl. That phrase used to fill me up—made me feel like I was doing something right. Now it sounded empty, like she was holding Maddie up between us as a shield. That stung. It made my chest ache.

I laughed. What else could I do?

It came out bitter, humorless. The kind of laugh you let out when you’re too angry to cry. My jaw clenched, my hands balled up at my sides. If I didn’t laugh, I might’ve started screaming.

Is she talking about that “sweet daughter” who, just a few days ago, told me I should be understanding and let her mom and Uncle Mark be together?

That memory smacked me right in the face. I could still see Maddie’s big brown eyes staring up at me, all earnest, like she honestly thought she was helping. Like she was so sure she was saying the right thing. It was like someone had swapped out my kid for a stranger.

If that’s how it’s gonna be, then I don’t want either of them. The thought hit hard, ugly as hell, but there it was. I couldn’t shake it. For the first time, I felt completely alone in my own home. The place felt colder than ever, like every ounce of laughter and love had been sucked out, leaving nothing but silence and shadows.

Kara looked at me like I was the one losing it—completely unfazed. She didn’t even blink.

Seriously, she rolled her eyes, like I was the dramatic one. “We’re not kids anymore. You’re really talking about divorce just because you’re upset? Have you lost your mind?”

Her voice was sharp, almost bored. She didn’t even try to soften the blow. The way she looked at me—like I was making a scene over nothing—made my blood boil. My ears burned. I could feel my pulse pounding in my neck.

She laid into me, didn’t even let me get a word in, and brought up our daughter again. “If we actually split, what about Maddie? She’s still so young. You really want her growing up in a broken home?”

Kara knew exactly how to get to me. Maddie’s my first kid—my only kid. She always knew how to hit where it hurt.

But so what?

I could feel something inside me snap. Like a rope pulled too tight, for too long. Then—snap. I was tired. Tired of being the only one who cared. Tired of always coming last.

No matter how much I give, they just expect it. Like it’s nothing. I was tired of it.

It was always, "Dad will handle it." "Ethan, you take care of this." Never a thank you, never a second thought. I felt invisible. Just a piece of furniture—only noticed when it was gone.

So now, I’m done being the one who gives everything. I’m done.

I straightened my shoulders, feeling a strange kind of relief settle in my chest—like a weight had shifted, just a little. For the first time, I let myself imagine a life where I wasn’t the doormat.

“You’re right, we’re not young anymore. If I’m bringing up divorce, it’s because I’ve thought it through.” I paused, let that land, then nodded. “As for Maddie, she can stay with you. I don’t want her.”

The words hung in the air, heavier than I expected. My voice was steady, but my hands were shaking. Did I really just say that? I could see the shock flicker across Kara’s face, just for a second.

Her mouth dropped open. She looked at me like I’d just slapped her across the face. For once, she didn’t have a comeback ready. I almost felt sorry for her—almost.

“What the hell are you talking about?” she snapped, her brow creasing. “Ethan Miller, it’s the middle of the damn day. I don’t want to argue with you. Quit stirring things up for no reason!” I could feel my heart thumping in my chest, like I was about to burst.

She shot me a glare, her voice rising. The neighbors could probably hear us through the walls. She always hated making a scene, but now she was practically shouting. Her hands trembled, even as she tried to act tough.

“Do I look like I’m just making trouble?” I shot back, my voice colder than I expected. “My wife’s a cheater, my daughter doesn’t even care about her own dad. Kara, tell me—if you were me, would you get a divorce or not?”

My words cut through the room like a knife. Let her feel it. I didn’t care if the neighbors heard. I wanted her to really hear what she’d done. My chest was tight, my heart pounding so loud I could barely hear myself think.

Saying it out loud felt surreal. Like I was telling someone else’s story, not my own. But it was real. All too real. My wife cheated on me. That was the truth.