By then, however, I had made my decision.
“Hi, sweetheart,” he said cheerfully as he stepped through the door. “How was your day?”
“Wonderful,” I replied without emotion. “By the way, I have a little surprise for you. I spent most of the day preparing it.”
Daniel raised his eyebrows with interest.
“A surprise? What’s the occasion?”
“I simply wanted to thank you for our wonderful and ‘happy’ family life,” I said with a faint smile. “Come into the living room.”
He suspected nothing and followed me.
Daniel settled into his favorite armchair in front of the television. I placed a small table beside him, set down a bag of chips, and brought him a mug of beer.
“Why are you suddenly being so attentive?” he asked, a trace of suspicion entering his voice.
“You’ll understand in a moment,” I replied, turning on the television.
About half an hour before he arrived, I had prepared a short presentation, saved it to a flash drive, and connected it to the television.
At first, Daniel did not understand what I was showing him.
The screen displayed ordinary photographs taken during his many “work trips.”
Then, a few seconds later, the images changed.
In one photograph, Daniel had his arms around a woman who was listed among his social-media friends.
In the next, he was laughing with another woman, a drink in his hand.
“Sweetheart, listen, I can explain everything,” Daniel said, suddenly nervous.
“Don’t interrupt me,” I cut in. “I worked hard on this. Show me some respect and watch until the end.”
The photographs continued to appear, and every new image was more revealing than the one before it.
“You really thought I would never find out?” I asked coldly.
“Where did you get all this?” he whispered.
“From your own social-media accounts. You should have chosen a stronger password—or at least learned to log out,” I answered calmly.
“It meant nothing!” Daniel suddenly shouted. “They were just meaningless flings! I love only you!”
“Really?” I looked directly at him. “Is that why you told your coworkers that your wife was ugly?”
The color drained from his face.
“But that isn’t even the worst part,” I continued. “You lied to me for six years. For six years, you used our family, my trust, and my parents’ help. Then you bragged to your friends about how easily you were fooling me.”
“Emily, please. Let’s talk about this calmly,” he pleaded.
I gave a quiet, humorless laugh.
“There’s nothing left for us to discuss. I will not keep living under the same roof as a man who betrayed me for years and treated me like a fool. Pack your things and leave. This apartment belongs to me.”
Daniel sat in silence for a while.
Then he took out his travel bags and began filling them with clothes and personal belongings.
Several times, he tried to speak to me again. He apologized, insisted that everything could still be fixed, and swore that our family mattered more to him than anything else.
I no longer listened.
A few days later, I officially filed for divorce.
After that came the court hearings, the paperwork, and the division of the property we had acquired together.
The apartment remained mine because my parents had given it to me long before Daniel and I were married.
He received only part of the compensation for the car. He was also ordered to pay child support for our daughters.
His accustomed lifestyle changed with astonishing speed.
There was far less money. He could no longer take the kind of vacations he had once enjoyed, and many things he had considered guaranteed suddenly disappeared.
But the strangest part was this:
Daniel continued to blame me for every one of his problems.
According to him, I was the one who had destroyed our family. I was the one who had refused to forgive him. I was the one who had taken away the life he was used to.
Hearing that was especially painful.
Because he had not been the one betrayed all those years.
He had not been humiliated behind his back.
He had not been called an ugly woman who was convenient to marry for comfort.
He had not been lied to every time his spouse supposedly left on a business trip.
All of that had happened to me.
So be it.
In Daniel’s eyes, I remained the same “ugly” woman he had once mocked with his coworkers.
He was welcome to keep thinking that.
It was only his opinion.
And after everything I had endured, his opinion no longer mattered to me at all.