I’ve been married for eight years. We have three children — our house was always full of cries and laughter, sometimes quiet with nothing but our cold stares at each other.
To be honest, I’d known for a long time: cheating was his nature. Not just once or twice. And stupidly, I kept forgiving him. My excuse? The children. For the sake of keeping the family “whole,” for those little faces who never did anything wrong.
But in 2020, after our third child was born, everything became crystal clear. He acted stranger than ever, his smile thinner, his phone locked tighter than Fort Knox. As if I no longer had the right to even ask, let alone uncover the truth hidden behind that little screen.
Until one day… maybe God got tired of watching me play blind.
One of his friends slid into my Instagram DMs. Said she wanted to meet. I invited her over. And to my surprise, she brought four more friends with her — five people sitting in my living room, ready to spill it all.
“Look, we just couldn’t stand watching him do this to you anymore. These are the photos of their 10-day vacation together. Your baby was only four months old… and he was out there enjoying himself with another woman…”
My world crumbled. Not just because they brought proof, but because that woman shamelessly posted all their vacation pictures on Facebook. While I was up all night changing diapers and nursing, he was taking sunset selfies at the beach, holding her hand.
When I reached out to that woman to confront her, she didn’t even deny it. In fact, she bragged about the details.
And yet… for the kids, we held a family meeting. Tears, empty promises, sweet apologies, everything you’d expect. We agreed to “start over.” Me, as always, choosing to forgive.
But just two weeks later, I heard he’d checked into a hotel. This time, I didn’t stay quiet. I stormed into the hotel late at night — and sure enough. There he was.
But what really broke me wasn’t that he was with someone…
It was that he was with a different woman.
Yep. Turns out he’d been dating two women at once. Two!
That night I went home fully convinced: enough. Even patience and foolishness have limits. I filed for divorce, head held high. Let people call me cruel now — because the truth is, I’d been the victim all along.
He was the king of playing the victim, making me feel guilty every time he got caught. Years and years of emotional damage.
And the funniest part? After we divorced, he married the mistress I caught him with at the hotel.
But guess what?
Just recently I heard she complained to my sister-in-law:
“He still cheats here and there.”
I just laughed.
Oh darling… you got him by cheating on me, and you really thought he’d be loyal to you?
In my heart I whispered:
You met him because he cheated. And you still expect him to be faithful? Wake up from your dream, darlingggg…
Hahahahahaha.
