When Marilyn agreed to leave her own house every weekend so her husband could spend time with his son, she thought she was being understanding. But after months of this arrangement, she returned home unexpectedly and saw what was truly happening.I thought my six-month marriage to Scott was built on solid ground. We had dated for two years before tying the knot, and during that time, I had gotten to know his six-year-old son, Ben.The boy was sweet and shy, with his father’s blonde hair and a smile that could melt ice. His mother Patricia seemed fine with me then. She would even chat with me during drop-offs, asking about my job as a high school teacher.
You’re so good with Ben,” she had said once, watching him show me his latest Lego creation. “It’s nice that he has another positive influence in his life.”
It was a quiet spring Tuesday evening, and we were both busy around the kitchen. I was making dinner and looking at the lovely rain outside through the window.
He was trying to fix one of the cabinet handles that had snapped off the day earlier.
Suddenly, he cleared his throat and I turned my head, raising my eyebrows.
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