…yelling at her, his face red with anger. My daughter was sitting on the bed, tears streaming down her face.

“What’s going on?” I demanded, stepping into the room. My husband froze, guilt flashing across his face.

“She—she went through my phone,” he stammered.

My daughter sobbed harder. “I wasn’t snooping! I just wanted to check the time, and… I saw messages.”

“Messages?” I asked, dread pooling in my stomach.

She nodded, holding up his phone with trembling hands. “From another woman.”

My heart stopped. I grabbed the phone and quickly scanned the screen. There they were—texts full of flirtation, photos exchanged, and even plans to meet. The air felt suffocating as I turned to him.

“Is this true?” I asked, my voice shaking.

He opened his mouth, but no words came out. That silence was louder than any excuse he could have given.

I looked at my daughter, her face a mixture of betrayal and heartbreak. In that moment, I realized that my marriage wasn’t the only thing at stake—my daughter’s sense of trust and stability had just been shattered.

“Get out,” I whispered.

He hesitated.

“Now!” I screamed, my voice breaking.

As he left, I sat beside my daughter, holding her tightly. We both cried, clinging to each other as the foundation of our family crumbled. It wasn’t the day we had planned, but it was the day we learned we’d have to rebuild—together, without him.