He Chose Them, Not Us
When I went to buy a new house, all I found was crumpled newspaper where my savings should've been.
I almost called the cops—until I found out Tony Jarrett, my own husband, had blown seven years of my hard-earned cash on a shiny new motorcycle.
For Pauline Schmidt.
His ex.
I asked why. He just shrugged. "She's a single mom. Life's tough. This way, she won't have to walk so much."
I wanted to scream, but I swallowed it down. Made him at least get an IOU from her.
While I was busy sourcing stuff for the factory, a flood warning hit our town.
And Tony? Out buying toy cars with Pauline and her kid. Our son was home alone, trying to stay above water.
I was back. Like life hit rewind and dropped me into that exact day. The day he gave her the motorcycle.
I saw them—laughing, tight, like their own little picture-perfect family. But I didn't cry this time. Didn't beg. Just turned and walked off.