Sometimes, when I’m alone, I replay the whole story in my mind, and it feels like someone else’s life.
I devoted years of my life to a man I thought I truly knew. We had two children, and everything seemed perfect—until David was in a crash that left him paralyzed from the waist down.
One moment, life was flawless, and the next, David was confined to a wheelchair, unable to walk.
As a wife and mother, I shifted into survival mode instantly. I became the caregiver, the bill-payer, the one keeping the kids’ routine as normal as possible, and the pillar for everyone around me.
I gave up the career I had worked so hard to build and traded it all for sleepless nights filled with lifting, bathing, cooking, and trying to stay strong for the family.
By day, I worked long hours at an insurance office, starting early and finishing late because I was the sole earner and money was tighter than ever. When I came home, utterly exhausted, the real work began—caring for David, comforting the kids, and holding our family together.
Though drained physically and emotionally, leaving never crossed my mind.
I believed it was God’s plan and that my sacrifices would someday be rewarded.
And then it began—after eight grueling years of therapy, David started improving slowly but surely.
It took time, but he was finally able to stand and take small steps. At first with help, then eventually on his own.
Watching his progress, I thought, “We’ve made it. All this struggle wasn’t for nothing.” But life had one more harsh surprise waiting for me.
Just a week after what felt like a miracle, David handed me divorce papers.
I thought he was joking—why would he want to leave after everything I’d done? But he was serious.
When I asked why, he said he wanted his “freedom” back, that he had felt “trapped” for years. Then he confessed he’d been involved with another woman even before the accident.
Later, the full truth emerged: some of the money I worked so hard for had been secretly spent supporting this other woman—this hidden life. It wasn’t just an emotional betrayal anymore; it was financial too. I felt completely robbed.
I gained custody of our children and decided to rebuild my life. I returned to my previous job, reconnected with old friends, and moved to a new place.
As for David, the other woman left him. From what I hear, he’s now living alone and regrets what he did. But honestly, I’ve been through so much that his feelings don’t concern me anymore.
