“Oh,” I said brightly. “I probably should have included you in this, too. But I’m just showing Emma how to run the house.
Since you think I’ve let myself go, I figured that it’s time for me to prioritize myself. And also, maybe it’s time for me to find someone who sees me as his princess. Emma, you’ll be taking over everything I do.
Good luck!”
Before either of them could respond, there was a knock on the door. I opened it to reveal Emma’s parents. The same couple who often babysat my kids if I was in a bind.
“Oh! It smells delicious! I told Annie that you were going to make your roast chicken, Lexie,” Emma’s father said, joyfully.
“Thanks for coming, Anne and Howard. And thank you for raising such a helpful daughter,” I said. “She and Mark have grown so close that I thought it was time to make her part of the family.”
“Wait, what?” Anne asked, her eyebrows furrowed.
“I’m leaving and Emma’s going to take care of everything now! You must be so proud of your little girl.”
Emma’s mom looked confused. Her dad, on the other hand, livid.
“Emma,” her mom said. “Tell me that this isn’t true. Tell me that this isn’t what I think it is.”
“It’s not what it looks like!” Emma stammered.
Mark, ever the coward, tried to shift the blame. “Lexie, this isn’t fair! Emma came to me!
She came onto me!”
“Oh, did she?” I asked, raising an eyebrow. “So, you’re saying that you’re not responsible for sneaking around with a 25-year-old while insulting your wife?”
He opened his mouth to argue, but Howard cut him off. “Mark, this is on you.
Emma, this is equally on you. Let’s leave. Now.”
Emma shot me a venomous glare before storming out.
Her parents followed, muttering a thousand apologies as they went. Mark turned to me, desperation etched across his face. “Lexie, please, babe,” he said.
“Let’s talk about this. We’ve been together for so long… you owe me a conversation, at least.”
“Oh, sweetie,” I said. “We’ll talk, don’t you worry.
My lawyer will call you tomorrow. But for now, I think you should pack your bags and leave.”
“Where will I go?” he asked pathetically. “My family lives in a different state.”
“I don’t really care, Mark,” I said, taking the chicken out of the oven.
“Go to a motel. Go to a friend. Join the circus.”
“And the kids?
Where are the kids?”
“They’re with my sister. And they’ll stay there until you sort your nonsense out. You can tell them the truth after the lawyers work out a settlement.
I’m not going down without a fight, Mark.”
A week later, I heard through the grapevine that Emma had dumped Mark. “It was fun while it lasted, but I didn’t sign up to play mom. To him or his kids.”
Two weeks later, Mark came back.
“What do you want?” I asked, seeing the bunch of flowers in his hand. “I’ve been so miserable without you,” he said, practically begging. “Please, let me come back.
Please, Lexie. We can fix this. I miss my kids.
I miss our family.”
“I don’t care, Mark!” I blurted out. “I truly don’t care. Now, if you don’t have anything productive to do here, then leave.
The kids are at a playdate, and I’m only fetching them in a few hours.”
Then, I closed the door, leaving him speechless. It’s been months since that night, and I’ve never been happier. I’ve rediscovered pieces of myself I thought were long gone.
I’ve started taking up salsa dancing, and with that, my confidence, joy and freedom came flooding in. Amid the chaos, my kids and I have found a new rhythm, one filled with laughter and love. As for Mark?
He’s still single. And from what I hear, Emma’s parents aren’t thrilled with her either. But Anne does bake cakes and pies and sends them over often.
And Howard likes to rake up the leaves in our front yard. Karma’s a funny thing, isn’t it? Source: amomama
