Her tone, her attitude, the sheer casualness of it, it all made my blood boil. I didn't trust myself to speak. Without a word, I grabbed the phone from her hand and walked toward the stairs. As I turned to leave, she called after me, glancing around the quiet house. "Wait, where are the kids?"
"They're with my mom," I said, not bothering to stop or turn around. "Thought it would be best for them not to see you come stumbling in like this." Her mouth opened slightly, but she quickly recovered, rolling her eyes. "God, you're so dramatic. It's not like they'd even notice." I didn't respond.
I climbed the stairs, my jaw clenched so tight it hurt. In the privacy of our bedroom, I plugged her phone into my laptop and began transferring the files. My hands trembled as I opened the folder, the weight of what I was about to see pressing down on me. A part of me still wanted to believe it wasn't real, that this was some elaborate, misguided joke. But as the videos loaded and I began clicking through them, that hope shattered.
Each clip was worse than the last. The laughter, the intimacy, the utter disregard for me or the life we'd built, it was all there, laid bare. By the time I finished, I felt hollow. The last shred of doubt was obliterated. This wasn't just a betrayal. It was a mockery of everything we'd been.
And yet, amidst the pain, there was clarity. This was it. This was the end. I copied the files onto a secure drive, ensuring I had every piece of evidence I needed. Then, with a steadying breath, I walked back downstairs.
Lisa was sitting on the couch, scrolling through her phone like nothing had happened. I held out her phone, and she took it with a smug smile, clearly misreading my expression. "I hope it was worth it," I said, my voice low and cold. Her smile faltered, confusion flickering across her face. "What's that supposed to mean?"
"You'll find out soon enough," I said, turning away. I didn't stay to watch her reaction. I couldn't. Instead, I headed to the kitchen, poured myself another drink, and sat at the table, staring at the wall. The wheels were already turning in my mind.
Tomorrow, I'd call a lawyer. Tomorrow, I'd start taking my life back. The next morning, I made the call. By the end of the week, I had met with the lawyer, reviewed my options, and filed the divorce papers. The video Lisa so smugly provided gave me the upper hand, ensuring I'd have the evidence to secure custody of the kids and a favorable financial settlement.