My Husband Lied to Me, and I Chose to Let Him Go

Leon adjusted his glasses and began explaining some aspects of marriage law to me.

Greg hadn’t come home for three days and neither of us reached out to each other.

Meanwhile, Amicia’s messages arrived like clockwork, appearing on my phone every single day at the same time. Now, I could open each one with a smile on my face.

It was a stark contrast to my last birthday when I was filled with joy, cooking a feast at home, eagerly waiting for Greg to come back and surprise me.

As night fell and the food grew cold, however, he still hadn’t returned and I couldn’t reach him.

I started to feel anxious, fearing something might have happened to him. Then, unexpectedly, the surprise I had been waiting for finally came.

Amicia’s message hit me like a hard slap, leaving me dizzy. It was a sweet photo that, if not for the fact that the man in it was my husband, might have made me smile.

In the picture, Amicia was hugging Greg from behind and he was wearing a pastel pink apron, his head bent as he chopped something.

That day, Greg hadn’t come home, so I sat on the couch waiting for him, watching the night stretch into dawn, sunlight spilling over the food I had prepared the night before.

When Greg finally opened the door, he was startled to see me sitting there. He looked at me with a hint of reproach and asked,

“What are you doing here?”

At that moment, my eyes felt frozen and I struggled to turn my gaze toward Greg.

“Where were you last night? Why couldn’t I reach you?”

Greg looked down and I couldn’t see his expression.

He mumbled, “There was a problem with the lab data. I had to work late into the night. I’m exhausted…”

In that instant, all my pent-up emotions exploded. I rushed up to Greg and threw my phone at him, nearly screaming,

“In the lab? Greg, you spent the whole night with Amicia! Yesterday was my birthday!”

Greg glanced at the photo on my phone and a flicker of panic crossed his face. My fingers tightened around the fabric of his shirt.

My eyes stung from the tears and an overwhelming sense of crisis enveloped me. I had no idea where to find any sense of security.

Before long, Greg grew impatient. He forcefully pulled my hands away and tried to walk past me.

“Amicia wasn’t feeling well yesterday, so I went to take care of her. She’s just a little dependent on me—don’t let your imagination run wild.”

When I shakily turned around, all I saw was the closed door to the bedroom.

I remember feeling terrified of losing Greg at that time, so I was always the one who compromised.

After that incident, Amicia essentially declared war on me. Every day, the last thing I wanted was to receive more of her photos.

Whenever I confronted Greg with the photos, he would always give me vague excuses, his indifference making my desperate pleas seem insane.

I called my family to tell them I was getting a divorce. After a long silence, my parents asked me to come home to discuss it.

I packed a few personal belongings and, before leaving, turned back to take one last look at this place that no longer felt like home. I closed the door behind me and walked away.

Part 4

When I got home and saw my mother’s worried expression, I suddenly felt an overwhelming sense of injustice. The person I had loved so deeply should have cared for me just a little; if not, he wouldn’t have done so many things to hurt me.

I held back the tears stinging my eyes as I sat across from my mother, trying my best to keep my tone steady while recounting everything that had happened over the past few weeks.