Sarah continued, feeling tears cloud her vision. “Eight years, Stephen. For eight years I believed you. Loved you. And you… this whole time…”
“Sarah, listen,” he finally spoke, taking a step forward. “It’s not what you think. That woman… she’s just trying to get money. It’s blackmail, don’t you see?”
“Blackmail?” Sarah let out a hysterical, painful laugh. “So you’re not denying you slept with them?”
Stephen fell silent. His jaw tightened.
“I…” He ran a hand through his hair. “It was a long time ago. It didn’t mean anything.”
“Didn’t mean anything?” Sarah felt her legs give way. She sank back into the chair. “Didn’t mean anything? You cheated on me on our wedding day!”
“It was a mistake,” he said, moving closer, his voice becoming softer, more persuasive. “I was drunk. It just happened. And that girl, Maria… yes, we were involved. But I didn’t know she’d get pregnant. That’s her problem, not mine.”
Sarah stared at him, unable to believe her ears. The man she loved, the man she married, was standing here saying these things. And there wasn’t a shred of remorse in his eyes.
“Her problem?” she whispered. “It’s your child, Stephen. Yours.”
“How do you know that?” he shot back. “Maybe she was sleeping with someone else. Girls like that are always looking for someone to pin their kids on.”
“Shut up!” Sarah jumped to her feet, knocking over the chair. “Just shut up! I don’t want to hear it.”
Stephen crossed his arms and smirked. And that smirk was the last straw.
“I’m filing for divorce!” Sarah yelled, tears streaming down her cheeks. “Get your things and get out of here now!”
“Not a chance,” he said, shaking his head, the smirk widening. “If you want to leave, you can go. I’m not going anywhere.”
Sarah froze, staring at him. Was this the same Stephen who had sworn to love and protect her eight years ago?
“This is my house,” he continued calmly. “I’m staying. If you want a divorce, you can pack your bags.”
She turned and ran to the bedroom. Her hands were shaking so badly she could barely open the closet. Sarah grabbed the first suitcase she saw and started throwing her clothes into it. Jeans, t-shirts, underwear—everything, indiscriminately. Tears blurred her vision.
“Sarah, don’t be stupid,” Stephen’s voice came from the hallway. “Where are you going to go at this hour?”
She didn’t answer. She went into the bathroom, swept her creams, shampoo, and toothbrush into a toiletries bag. She returned to the bedroom and zipped the suitcase.
“Sarah,” Stephen stood in the doorway, watching her. “You know this is crazy, right? Let’s just talk about it tomorrow, when you’ve calmed down.”
“Calmed down?” She turned to him, her voice filled with such rage that he took a step back. “You want me to calm down? After what you’ve done?”
“I haven’t done anything worth destroying our family over,” he retorted. “Don’t be so dramatic about a little mistake.”
Sarah grabbed her suitcase and walked past him without a glance. Stephen didn’t try to stop her. She heard him sigh and mutter something under his breath. In the entryway, she pulled on her jacket, grabbed her car keys, and ran outside.
The cold night air hit her face, but she barely felt it. She got in the car, threw the suitcase in the back, and started the engine. Her hands were trembling so much she could hardly hold the wheel. Sarah pulled out of the driveway and sped down the empty streets. Tears made it hard to see the road, and she nearly veered into oncoming traffic more than once.
Her mother’s condo was on the other side of town. Sarah got there in thirty minutes, a drive that usually took over forty. She parked by the building, grabbed her bag, and went up to the fourth floor. She rang the doorbell. Once. Twice. A third time. Finally, a sleepy voice called from inside.
“Who is it?”
“Mom, it’s me!” Sarah rasped.
The door swung open. Elizabeth stood there in a robe, her hair disheveled, squinting against the hallway light.
“Honey, what happened?” The surprise in her voice turned to alarm when she saw her daughter’s face.
Sarah stepped inside and collapsed onto her mother’s shoulder.
“Mom, I’m divorcing Stephen!” she sobbed. “That bastard has been cheating on me for years. Even on our wedding day!”
Elizabeth hugged her daughter and led her to the kitchen. She sat her down at the table and turned on the kettle.
“Sweetheart, are you sure about this?” she asked, sitting across from Sarah and taking her hands. “You’ve been together for eight years. You have a business together. You can’t just throw it all away. Maybe you should try to work things out. Forgive him?”
Sarah lifted her head and stared at her mother.
“Forgive him?” She pulled her hands away. “Mom, are you even listening to me? That jerk cheated on me on our wedding day, and I’m supposed to forgive him?!”
“Honey, that’s life!” Elizabeth shook her head. “Men do these things. Even your father…”
“What?” Sarah froze. “Dad cheated on you?”
“Well…” Her mother looked away. “There were times. But I forgave him. We were married for twenty-eight years, until he passed away. Family is the most important thing.”
“I can’t believe this!” Sarah leaned back in her chair. “You knew Dad was cheating? And you never said anything?”
“I was keeping our family together,” Elizabeth said, a hint of defensiveness in her voice. “I didn’t want you growing up without a father. It was a sacrifice I made for you.”
“A sacrifice?” Sarah laughed through her tears. “Mom, that’s not a sacrifice. That’s humiliation. You let him walk all over you.”
“Sarah! How can you say that?” her mother cried.
“And how can you advise me to forgive a cheater?” Sarah stood up, nearly knocking over the chair. “If you were okay with Dad cheating on you, that’s your business. But I won’t do it!”
Elizabeth turned pale.
“I was just trying to help…”
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