I went home without saying a word. I didn’t want to explode in front of the children. I locked myself in the bathroom. I looked at my reflection. I didn’t know if I wanted to cry, scream, or smash everything.
That evening, he sent me a message:
“Everything is going well here. I’m thinking of you ❤️”
And I was still looking at his tent, his Bible, his boots… in my garage.
I don’t know what I’m going to do yet. But what I do know is that I will never again fold her clothes over a lie.
I will no longer believe in words disguised as prayers.
And I will never teach my children that faith is about pretending.
continued on the next page
