After giving birth to triplets, my husband called me a “scarecrow” and started an affair with his assistant. He thought I was too broken to fight back. He was wrong. What I did next made him pay a price he never saw coming—and rebuilt me into someone he’d never recognize.
I used to believe I’d found my forever person—the kind of man who made everything seem possible, lit up every room he entered, and promised me the world. Ethan was all that and more.
For eight years, we built a life together. For five of those years, we were married. And for what felt like an eternity, we fought infertility month after disappointing month—until finally, I got pregnant… with triplets.