I got into the driver’s seat, ready for the long 10-hour drive back to North Carolina from New Jersey. My baby boy and dog were with me. My husband and I had been having some issues, but we were starting to talk again, and I was hopeful things would get better once I got home. As I picked up my phone to put in our address, a text came through from him. I smiled, expecting something pleasant.
But what I read broke me.
“i am not happy. I want more for myself. If you are coming home, I will not be here.”
I parked the car near a Dunkin’ Donuts, my hands trembling. I tried to call him, but my phone was not working. Though I felt broken inside, I kept driving home, hoping we could talk and work things out.
But when I got home, he was gone. Everything else looked normal. I did not sleep at all that night. I kept checking our bank accounts and even called hospitals because I was so scared. Later, I saw a charge from a bar. The next morning, he came home acting like nothing was wrong. He got ready for work, happy and calm, and ignored me completely. This happened for 12 days. Sometimes he stopped by, mostly just to get clothes. I saw bar tabs every night and phone numbers from other women. When I called, they confirmed what I already feared.
Each day I cared for our son, somehow kept up with school, and replayed his words in my head. I cried in the shower, staying there long after the water turned cold. At night, I stared at my computer, watching phone records and payments, trying to make sense of it all. I searched for signs, something I might have missed. I asked friends and family. No one had answers. Even strangers told me how perfect we seemed. We were each other’s best friend. We did everything together.
When we finally met to talk, he offered no real reason and just asked me to lie so we could divorce faster. I refused. He got angry and distant. Over time, he would come by, eat my food, nap on the couch, and say cruel things. I tried to hold it together for our son’s first birthday, but even then, he blamed me for ruining it.
After a month, I went to Michigan to be with family. He went off to party. I realized he was never coming back. That is when I packed up and moved for good.
It is been a long journey. I have felt pain, loss, and even anger toward the person I once loved most. But today, my son and I are starting fresh in South Jersey. It is just us, but we are slowly finding peace. I am finally finishing my degree and applying to PA school. I have grown stronger through all of this. I am not just surviving—I’m building a beautiful life. For me. For my son.
