Married at 25, I thought it was a love for the ages. After our son Brian was born a year into our marriage, life seemed perfect. But as the years passed, the fairy tale ended. My husband began lying and then cheating. I endured it for years, not wanting to break up our family, until I couldn’t anymore
For years, I struggled with infertility. When I finally became pregnant, my husband Mark and I wept with joy. But that wasn’t the last miracle awaiting us. A few months later, we discovered we were expecting twins. Our joy knew no bounds! However, the responsibility was even greater. It was clear we would need to work twice as hard
Dive into my tale about my first husband, Anthony. Both of us came from humble beginnings—I received nothing from my parents who were renters, while he inherited a condo from his deceased father. His father had long divorced Anthony’s mother, leaving her to raise him alone. I could see why they split; she was tough to deal with. Every time
“Did Madeline put you up to this? That’s all we needed! Just because we don’t get along with her doesn’t mean I should sell the house. I love this house.” “It’s our house, my father left it to us. Though you might say he left it for me, his son. No one talked me into this. I just realize…”
I told my mom it would be best if the house was in my name. She looked puzzled and said, “Why bother? You’re our only child!”
