He Begged for Forgiveness, I Sent It to the Shredder

The first time I told my husband I wanted a divorce was because he took a call from his first love at our baby shower. Mid-speech, thanking guests for coming to welcome our baby, his phone rang. He glanced at the screen—his first love—and simply told everyone he had an urgent work matter, grabbed his keys, and walked out. No apology. I smiled through the rest of the party and let the world believe nothing was wrong.

Then I found the truth. A message on his phone: I'm having a panic attack. I need you. There was no work emergency. He'd also given her a permanent visitor access code to our home—registered in her name.

That night, he came home and told me she couldn't live without him. "This is the last time," I said. "If you ever leave me for her again, we're getting a divorce." I wasn't waiting for comfort. I just wanted to see, once and for all, if he would choose her again.