I never imagined my heart could break so brutally. To me, marriage was a sacred bond, and I trusted my wife with my entire being. My father, too, was a pillar of respect, a man I admired deeply. So, the day I discovered their betrayal feels like a haunting dream I can’t escape. It happened during a family gathering, in a place too shameful to fathom. Stepping out briefly, I returned to faint whispers and rustling near the outhouse. Initially, I dismissed it, but an uneasy pull urged me to investigate.

What I saw shattered me: my wife and my own father, entangled in an act too painful to name. My mind reeled, my chest constricted, and betrayal cut deeper than words could express. I confronted them on the spot. My father avoided my gaze, shame silencing him. My wife sobbed, pleading for mercy, but the damage was done, my heart lay in fragments. That night, sleep abandoned me. Perched on the bed’s edge, I wrestled with the agony, wondering what curse had poisoned my marriage. To read more click here.