My blood ran cold. Everything clicked into place — the late-night outings, the secretive phone calls, the car accident. It wasn’t just an accident; it was part of something much bigger.

“Derek, what do we do?” I asked, my voice trembling.

“Mom, I need you to pack her things and bring them outside. When I get back tonight, she has to be out of the house. I’m done with her lies.”

I knew it was the right thing to do, but my heart ached for Derek. He didn’t deserve this betrayal. As I started packing Lindsay’s belongings, I couldn’t help but think about how quickly things had spiraled out of control. It was time to end this nightmare and protect my son from any more heartache.

The door creaked as Lindsay stepped into the room, her eyes wide with shock as she saw what I was doing. I stood firm, ready for whatever came next.

“What are you doing?” she exclaimed.

“Kicking you out. Your lies are over,” I folded my arms on my chest.

“You’ll pay for this,” Lindsay growled. “I’ll call Derek right now!”

I don’t know what Derek said in the call, but when it ended, Lindsay left. I felt a mix of relief and sadness. Derek came home, and after a brief, painful conversation, he decided to file for divorce. It wasn’t easy, but he knew it was the right choice. The betrayal was too deep, and there was no turning back.

If you liked this story, consider checking out this one: My husband, Derek, and I have shared our lives for what feels like forever. We’ve built a home and raised two kids. Though we were madly in love, we got a prenup to avoid any messy disputes should we ever decide to part ways. I didn’t think I’d ever need it.