His Childhood Sweetheart Ruined My Marriage, So I Ruined Them Both

My husband's childhood friend, the one he always called just like a sister, posted something on social media that only I could see.

You can't break apart twenty years of friendship.

She'd even attached a photo.

Claude Simmons was lying across her pale, slender legs, their fingers intertwined.

That night, well past midnight, Patsy Dickerson called me.

She didn't say a word, but I could hear snoring through the phone.

"Claude fell asleep at my place after too many drinks."

"Don't wait up for him. You and the kid should just go to bed."

The next day, Claude came home. When he saw the look on my face, he frowned and immediately held out his phone.

"Go ahead. Check it. I have nothing to hide."

He turned and headed for the bathroom. "You keep this up, being paranoid about everything, and this marriage... it's not going to work."

My knuckles went white around his phone. My whole body trembled, and tears pooled at the edges of my vision. "If it's not going to work, then let's end it."

"You like spending the night at your sister's place so much."

"Then... I'll set you free."

"Let's get a divorce."

...

The air in the house froze solid.

Claude stopped mid-step.

He turned around and stared at me, disbelief written across his face.

"You... what did you just say?"

"I said... divorce."

After that, I took our son to preschool.

By the time I got home, Claude had already left for work.

I started packing.

He'd sent me a text: "I want braised pot roast for dinner tonight. We can talk about that little issue you brought up this morning."

When he got home from work, he saw the pot roast on the table, glistening and fragrant.

He smiled.

Then he spotted me coming out of the kitchen in my apron.

He slipped on his house shoes, walked over, and wrapped his arms around me. His voice went soft. "Babe, I knew you'd always give me everything I need."

"Marrying you was the best decision I ever made."

"Where's our boy?"

I pushed him away, my expression calm.

"You didn't make a mistake marrying me. But I made a mistake marrying you."

"He's in his room, playing on the tablet."

I set the last dish on the table, a plate of sauted greens.

Then I scooped him another bowl of rice.

"Eat this meal. Then sign the papers."

"After today, we go our separate ways."

Claude had the pot roast halfway to his mouth. He froze.

His brows drew together sharply.

"I've explained this to you so many times. The company's been doing layoffs. The projects are brutal. I've been under a lot of pressure, so I went to have a few drinks with Patsy."

"I had too much and crashed at her place for one night."

"Nothing happened between us."

"There's nothing going on."

"How many times do I have to say it before you'll believe me?"

By the end, his voice had risen, his composure cracking.

I couldn't tell if it was genuine outrage at being falsely accused.

Or the hysteria of a man whose lies were unraveling.

But either way...

It didn't matter to me anymore.

When I said nothing, just sat there in silence, Claude nearly lost it.

"You're always like this! Suspicious of everything, every single day. I try to explain and you won't listen. If I were really having an affair with Patsy, why would I have married you in the first place?"

"Don't you think I would've just married her instead?"

A bitter laugh escaped me, the corner of my mouth twitching. "She was young and beautiful back then, so she married a rich man. If she hadn't gotten divorced, you wouldn't have even been on her radar."

Crash.

Claude hurled his bowl to the floor.

Rice scattered across the tiles, still steaming.

He looked like a wounded animal with its scars ripped open.

His eyes locked onto mine, cold and glittering with barely contained fury.

"Mommy, what happened?"

Neville Simmons poked his head out of the bedroom, eyes wide.

"It's nothing, sweetie. Daddy accidentally broke a bowl."

"Be careful, Daddy."

"Got it."

Once my son closed the door again, Claude pressed down the fury boiling inside him and said in a low voice, "You can accuse me all you want, but don't you dare disrespect Patsy."

"She and I are just friends. There's nothing going on between us."

"If you really don't believe me, there's nothing more I can say."

"Then don't."

"I don't think you're in the mood to eat anyway."

With that, I pulled out the divorce agreement I'd prepared in advance and handed it to him.

"I'll walk away with nothing. I don't want a single thing."

"I only want my son."

Claude let out a cold laugh, tore the agreement to shreds, and tossed the pieces into the trash.

"You think you're taking my son?"

"Not a chance in hell."

"Always walking around with that miserable look on your face, like the whole world owes you something. Just looking at you kills my appetite. I'm done eating."

"I'm going to Patsy's for a drink."

After Claude slammed the door behind him, I clenched my fists, my nails slowly digging into my palms.

Just as the tears were about to spill, I tilted my head back.

Crying over a man who cheated, a man who didn't love me anymore.

That was the most foolish thing I could do.

For the next two days, Claude didn't come home.

I didn't ask.

On the third day, I had just picked Neville up from preschool and brought him inside when I heard the front door open behind me.

I assumed Claude had come back.

But when the door swung open, it wasn't him.

It was Patsy.

"Hey there, sis. Long time no see."

"Where did you get a key?"

"Claude gave it to me. He said he doesn't want to come home, so I'm here to grab a few changes of clothes for him. Oh, and to take Neville out to dinner."

Patsy strolled in like she owned the place, talking as she headed straight for the master bedroom. She opened the closet without hesitation, found Claude's clothes, packed two sets, then turned to my son with her hand outstretched. "Come on, Neville. Daddy's waiting for you at the restaurant."

"We're having steak tonight!"

Neville shook his head and ran to my side.

"I'm not going."

Patsy fished two chocolates out of her pocket. "Be a good boy and listen to Auntie, and I'll give you some chocolate."

"You're a bad woman."

"Bad people give you bad candy. It'll make my tummy hurt."

My son's words made me laugh.

Patsy's face, however, fell completely.

She glared at me. "He's just a little kid and you're already teaching him to talk like that? What kind of mother are you?"

"My son is growing up. He knows right from wrong. If he thinks you're a bad woman, maybe you should take a good look in the mirror."

"Have you done something you shouldn't have?"

"What could I possibly have done?"

"Why don't you tell me?"

I ignored her challenge.

Instead, I gestured toward the door.

"You're not welcome in my home."

"Your home?" Patsy's lips curled into a cold smirk.

"You poor thing. Forget this house."

"Your husband is practically mine already."

Then her eyes darted sideways, and she folded her arms with a grin. "Claude's been spending the night at my place these past two days."

"And?"

I raised an eyebrow.

"His heart isn't here anymore."

"Mm."

"Your marriage is over."

With that, she walked right up to me. "And I'm not going to pretend anymore. That's right. I slept with Claude."

"He says you're like a dead fish in bed. Absolutely no fun at all."

"We try something different every single night, and besides..."

Patsy was still gloating when I raised my hand and slapped her across the face.

Crack!

The blow stunned her. She pressed her hand to her cheek and stared at me, eyes wide with disbelief.

She never would have imagined, not in a million years, that I'd actually hit her.

"Stella... you actually hit me?"

Her eyes blazed with fury as she glared at me, her whole body trembling with rage.

"He and I aren't officially divorced yet," I said. "I'm still Mrs. Simmons. You're nothing but a homewrecker, and you have the nerve to act this bold in front of the real wife? Who gave you the audacity?"

Before, I'd held back because the situation between Claude and me wasn't just about a broken marriage. We had a son who was about to turn five. For the sake of giving Neville a complete and healthy home, I'd endured it all. Patsy's provocations. Claude's cheating. I swallowed every last bit of it.

But Claude had pushed things further and further, treating me like I didn't exist. Now that I'd already decided to divorce him, and Patsy still had the gall to run her mouth in my face? If I didn't smack her a couple of times, I wouldn't be able to live with myself.

Looking at the defiance still written all over her face, I let out a cold laugh. "Your ex-husband cheated on you, kept a mistress, abused you every day. You were miserable, so you decided to come wreck our lives instead. And poor Claude actually thinks you're in love with him."

"He's a fool. A complete idiot you've been playing like a puppet."

"One day, when he finally sees you for what you really are, he'll regret everything."

Patsy's eyes went wide. She hadn't expected me to know so much about her and her ex-husband.

"You bitch! In my entire life, nobody has ever dared to hit me." She lunged forward. "I'll tear you apart!"

I grabbed one of her wrists with one hand and raised the other, ready to slap her again.

But just as my hand was about to come down, Claude's furious roar erupted from the doorway. "Stella, stop it right now!"

"Claude!"

Patsy had already been stewing in her grievance from the first slap. The moment she saw Claude, her eyes turned red and tears spilled down her cheeks in a steady stream.

That pitiful, wounded look of hers. Forget a man. Even I, another woman, felt a pang of sympathy looking at her.

Having been through one marriage already, Patsy carried a certain allure about her. More than that, she knew exactly how to wrap a man around her finger.

She yanked free of my grip, rushed over, and threw herself into Claude's arms.

"She's so mean to me," Patsy whimpered. "I only came to pick up a couple of outfits for you. I was going to grab them and leave, I didn't want to make her angry. But she wouldn't let me go. She even got the boy to call me names." She sniffled, her voice breaking. "And then she hit me. Look."

Tears streamed down her face as she tilted her head up and pointed to the red mark on her right cheek.

Claude gently wiped her tears away, then softly touched her cheek. His voice was impossibly tender. "Does it hurt?"

"It really hurts."

Patsy kept trembling.

Claude's expression darkened. He took Patsy's hand and led her over to stand in front of me, his voice cold as ice. "Did you hit her?"

"Yes," I said without hesitation.

"You're acting like a lunatic. Completely unreasonable!"

I said nothing.

"Apologize to her. Now."

He didn't even bother asking why.

Instead, he told me to apologize.

My gaze drifted to Patsy.

She stood off to the side, clinging tightly to Claude's arm.

When she noticed me looking, she flashed me a provocative smile, but her voice came out fragile and pitiful. "Claude, just forget it. No one's ever truly cared about me anyway. Someone like me is just destined to be pushed around."

"I... I'm used to it by now."

With that, she burst into tears again.

Claude wrapped his arm around her. "I didn't look out for you before, but from now on, I will. No one is going to bully you ever again."

"R-really?"

Claude nodded firmly.

"That's wonderful. I finally have someone in my corner."

Patsy's tears gave way to a beaming smile.

Claude fixed his stare on me. "I'm giving you one more chance. Apologize to Patsy. Right now."

"Or... let her slap you."

"Pick one."

I scoffed. "She doesn't deserve an apology from me."

"So you're choosing the slap, then?"

Before I could say a word, Claude turned to Patsy. "Go slap her."

"What? But she's your wife..."

"Is that... really appropriate?"

"I've got your back. She won't dare do a thing."

"Go ahead. Hit her."