Once Stacey understood the full picture, she chose to step away from her marriage. It was not sudden or reckless. She spoke to professionals, gathered support, and made plans with care. When she finally moved out, Alan reacted with confusion and frustration—nothing more.
I, too, reopened discussions about custody, ensuring that our daughters’ routines and emotional well-being remained stable. With new insight into his patterns, I felt more prepared to advocate for what they needed.
One afternoon, after everything settled, Stacey and I sat in my living room—the same place where she’d arrived trembling months earlier.
“We made it through,” I said, feeling lighter than I had in years.
She gave a small, grateful smile. “Thank you for helping me. For listening, even when you didn’t have to.”
For a long time, my anger had built a solid wall between us. But as I looked at her, I realized the wall had quietly crumbled. We were no longer two women hurt by the same man—we were two people standing on the other side of a difficult chapter.
“We both deserved something better,” I said gently.
She nodded. “So what now?”
Now, we move forward—with more wisdom, more compassion, and more confidence than before.
And for the first time in a very long time, I felt truly free.
