I'd like to share a story from a past life—one involving my now-ex-wife.
We lived together for two years: one before the wedding and one after. In the beginning, everything was perfect. We were head over heels, completely in sync, living in total harmony.
But a year into the marriage, things started to shift. My wife began to nag me constantly, mostly about money. It felt like it was never enough for her. She wanted expensive gifts, luxury resorts—the "high life." I wouldn't say we were struggling; we had enough to live comfortably, but her expectations were on a completely different level.
I kept hoping that once I got my promotion at work, the fighting would just stop on its own.
I did eventually get that promotion, but it didn't do anything to improve my wife's financial situation. By then, we were already divorced.
***
When our relationship was spiraling toward the abyss, I still foolishly thought it was fixable. Then one day, I came home from work a little early and overheard my wife talking to a friend. That was the moment I realized there was no saving our family.
It all started with an office Christmas party. I'd let her go without a second thought; I trusted her completely because I never gave her a reason to doubt me. She came home late that night, stumbling drunk. Even then, I didn't suspect a thing. I should have.
The conversation I accidentally walked in on a couple of months later put everything into perspective.
"So, what am I supposed to say?" my wife asked. "That I got knocked up at the Christmas party?"
"But Irene," her friend replied, "you don't even know if it's your husband's or your boss's."
"Ugh, so what? I'll just tell Mark it's his. There's no future with my husband anyway, and I know Bill can actually provide for us."
"Bill is married, Irene."
"And? A marriage certificate isn't a brick wall. Besides, he hasn't loved his wife in years."
"What about Scott?"
"I told you, there's no point. He's a loser, and he's always going to be a loser."
I couldn't listen anymore. I burst into the room, my hand itching to slap her, but thank God I kept my cool. I kicked her out on the spot and filed for divorce.
***
The divorce went through pretty quickly, despite the fact that Irene was pregnant. She didn't fight it—I assume she was banking on a glamorous, happy life with her boss. We didn't have much shared property; the house and the car were mine, so there wasn't much to split.
To be honest, the betrayal hit me hard. I was a wreck. For a while, I didn't even want to keep going. To drown out the dark thoughts, I buried myself in my work. Soon enough, I landed that long-awaited promotion.
Life started moving forward. My job began bringing in a very solid income. A few months had passed since the divorce and I was finally starting to feel some peace, but then my ex-wife decided to remind me she existed. She showed up at my office, begging for forgiveness. She claimed she loved me, that her boss was a mistake, and that the baby was definitely mine.
You know what? I didn't even care. I didn't believe a word out of her mouth. The only thought running through my head was: How did she even have the energy to trek across the city to my office with a belly that big?
I found out the real reason for her visit later. For the moment, I just sent Irene back where she came from. I did promise to support the child if it turned out to be mine, but only after a DNA test. She kept calling me for a while, but eventually, she gave up.
***
A couple of years later, I heard the rest of the story from one of her friends. It turned out Bill had no use for Irene. He changed his mind about the divorce and stayed with his wife. Irene had to quit her job. To get her out of his hair, her former boss gave her a decent lump sum of money and told her never to show her face again.
She blew through that money before the baby was even born. That was why she had shown up at my office—she was desperate. When the baby arrived, the DNA test was done. The father was Bill.
But even that didn't make my ex a millionaire. It turned out all of Bill's assets, even the company, were legally in his wife's name. His official salary was pocket change. Irene ended up having to move back in with her parents in a drafty old house in the middle of nowhere, scraping by on measly child support payments from a wealthy but ruthless father. Her attempts to sue him went nowhere; Bill just threatened to take the boy away from her if she kept it up.
For a long time, I wondered: Why couldn't she just be happy with the life we had?
Then I met my current wife, Sarah, and I realized everything happened for a reason. Karma really is a boomerang—it always comes back around.
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