My name is Grace. I’m 43.
For fifteen years, I believed my marriage was the one thing in my life that could never break.
Daniel and I built everything together. Two kids. A house that always smelled like detergent, spaghetti sauce, and crayons melted into the couch cushions. School mornings, grocery runs, weekend movies on the couch.
It wasn’t glamorous.
But it was ours.
And I trusted it.
The next part changes everything.
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