It’s amazing how one phone call can make you question your entire marriage. How quickly trust can unravel when a stranger casually mentions your husband’s “daughter.” A child you’ve never heard of.
I’ve always been Nick’s biggest cheerleader. From the day we met six years ago at my friend’s barbecue, where he charmed me with his terrible dad jokes and surprising knowledge of 90s pop culture, I knew he was the one.
A man at a barbecue party | Source: Midjourney
In no time, our apartment became a home. Our lives blended seamlessly, like we’d always been meant to find each other.
Nick worked as a graphic designer while I managed a small bookstore downtown. Our schedules aligned perfectly, giving us evenings and weekends together.
When Nick turned 34, something shifted.
A woman lighting candles on a cake | Source: Pexels
He started talking about milestones, about doing something significant before hitting 35. I suggested traveling to Europe, but he wanted something more personal.
“I think I want to run a marathon,” he announced one night over dinner. “I’ve never been much of a runner, but there’s something about pushing yourself to that limit that appeals to me.”
I remember the way his eyes lit up when he talked about it. How could I not support that passion?
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