My husband used my mom’s cabin to cheat with his coworkers, but catching him was only the beginning.
What followed revealed not just his betrayal, but the depth of his character—and the fragility of the life I had built around trust.
I’m Ashley, 33 years old, born and raised in western Massachusetts. My life has always been orderly, practical, and measured.
By day, I work as a contracts analyst, buried under spreadsheets, legal clauses, and deadlines that never seem to stop. My coworkers see me as dependable, organized, and unflappable. They don’t know the quiet desperation that comes with it—the feeling of being on constant alert, of carrying other people’s expectations like a backpack filled with bricks. When the noise gets too loud—the car horns, the office gossip, the relentless pressure—I don’t escape to a yoga…
