For Twenty Years, My Husband Brought Me a “Soothing Herbal Tea” Every Night — But When I Finally Discovered What Was Really Inside, His Life Became the True Nightmare

People often ask if I feel hatred.

I don’t.
What I feel is clarity — the sharp, cool kind that comes after a long fever.

The Epilogue

Now I live alone in the same house, filled with light and silence. The dreams have stopped. My mind is clear.

And every night, before I sleep, I whisper a promise to myself:

Never again will I drink from someone else’s cup.

Because sometimes, the most dangerous poison isn’t swallowed in one gulp — it’s sipped slowly, disguised as love, until you forget who you are.

He once thought he could rewrite my life.
Now he’s living the story he wrote — one where every lie finally caught up with him.

I was his victim for twenty years.
But in the end, I became his memory.
And I made sure it would haunt him far longer than his “tea” ever haunted me.