10. First step

                                    

                                          
It is so easy for someone to leave, but why is it that the one who is left behind feels the excruciating pain?
It hurt so bad.
My heart broke into millions of pieces, and tears spilled out of my eyes like a never-ending waterfall. For a second, I wanted to go far away—somewhere I wouldn't feel the pain. Anywhere but here.
I grabbed my car keys and drove aimlessly, the sound of tires against the road barely registering in my ears as I fought the tidal wave of emotions threatening to overwhelm me. The memories, the betrayal, and the sheer audacity of Bret's actions played on an endless loop in my head. Every corner of my being ached, but I tightened my grip on the steering wheel, forcing myself to focus on the road ahead.
The night was cold and quiet, a stark contrast to the storm raging within me. Streetlights blurred into streaks of light as I wiped tears from my eyes. The more I tried to calm myself, the angrier I became. How could he? How could he throw away everything we had built, everything we had promised each other, for someone else? And to make it worse—she was pregnant. It felt like a cruel, cosmic joke, one that left me gasping for air.
Eventually, I found myself pulling into the underground parking lot of a modest apartment building left by my late uncle. I had never thought I’d need it. Yet here I was, shattered and seeking refuge in the one place that hadn’t been tainted by him.
Sliding the key into the lock, I entered the dimly lit space. The apartment was smaller than the house we had shared, but it was mine. Safe. Untouched by his lies. I dropped my bag onto the couch and sank down, resting my head in my hands.
The stillness was unbearable. It pressed against me, amplifying every sob, every whisper of despair that escaped my lips.
A chime broke the silence, startling me. My phone flashed with a name I hadn’t seen in years—Luna Reed. My best friend from school and now a successful lawyer.
"Leena?" her concerned voice filled the void as soon as I answered.
I didn’t even realize I had started crying until my voice came out broken. "Luna, I—I need your help."
"What happened?" Her tone shifted instantly to one of professional seriousness, laced with personal concern.
"Bret... he cheated. He wants a divorce. There’s another woman, and she’s pregnant," I managed between sobs.
There was a pause on the other end, heavy with unspoken words. Then, "Leena, listen to me. You don’t have to face this alone. You and Ryan deserve better. I’ll help you. We’ll file for divorce and make sure he gets what he deserves for his infidelity."
Her words felt like a lifeline, pulling me back from the edge of despair. "I don’t know where to start, Luna. I feel so lost."
"You don’t have to know. I’ll guide you through it. First, take a deep breath and know this: you’re stronger than this moment. I’ll email you a checklist of documents we’ll need, and I’ll draft the paperwork. Just forward me any evidence you have—texts, pictures, anything."
"I have plenty," I said bitterly, thinking of his smug face as he held her hand in my home.
"Good," she replied firmly. "We’ll hit him where it hurts. Now, go take a hot shower, eat something, and try to rest. You’ve got this, Leena. You’re not alone."
For the first time that day, I felt a spark of hope.
After hanging up, I sank back into the couch, hugging a pillow to my chest. The tears came again, unbidden. They weren’t just for Bret’s betrayal but for the life we had built, the promises we had made, and the dreams that now lay shattered.
I thought of Ryan, my sweet boy, and how his little face lit up whenever he saw me. For him, I had to stay strong.
But how? How do you rebuild your life when the foundation has been ripped out from under you?
I let my mind drift back to the early days of my relationship with Bret. The way he’d call me “love,” his warm hugs, and his silly jokes that never failed to make me laugh. Those memories stung now, like salt in an open wound. They mocked me, taunting me with what could never be again.
But as I sat there, staring at the ceiling, a new thought crept into my mind. I could do this. I would do this. For Ryan. For myself.
“I don’t need him,” I whispered aloud. “I’ll be fine. I’ll live for my son, and I’ll show him what it means to be strong.”
Rising from the couch, I grabbed my laptop and began accessing the recording of our home and things Luna would need. With every click, I felt a little more in control, a little less helpless.
The night stretched on, but I refused to let exhaustion win. I was determined to take back my life, one small step at a time.
By the time I was done, the first rays of dawn peeked through the curtains. Exhausted but resolute, I leaned back, letting the quiet of the apartment settle around me.
Tomorrow would be another day. A new beginning.
And for the first time, I believed that I could face it.
It wouldn’t be easy. The pain wouldn’t vanish overnight, and the road ahead would be fraught with challenges. But I wasn’t the same woman who had crumbled under the weight of Bret’s betrayal.
I was stronger now.
I thought of Ryan again, of his laughter and his boundless energy. He was my light, my reason for moving forward. I would rebuild our life, piece by piece, until we were whole again.
As the morning sun warmed the room, I made a promise to myself: I would rise from the ashes of this heartbreak. I would create a life for Ryan and me that was filled with love, resilience, and joy.
Bret may have left, but he hadn’t broken me.
And that was a victory I would carry with me every single day.
One step at a time.