I never imagined the man I loved, the father of my child, would shatter my world so cruelly. My once-cherished marriage morphed into a torment I could never have foreseen. Pregnant and vulnerable, I relied on his devotion, only to be betrayed by the woman I trusted most—our househelp. The person I hired to clean and cook became the one who stole my husband, and he flaunted it shamelessly.

I first noticed their unsettling closeness—shared laughs, hushed whispers, abrupt silences when I appeared. Weak from pregnancy, I dismissed my suspicions. But one Sunday, returning from church, I found them together in our matrimonial bed. My heart froze. Instead of remorse, he snapped at me to “calm down.” Even after I gave birth, the affair persisted. While I nursed our newborn, still raw from labor, he spent nights with her. Then came the ultimate blow: he demanded I leave our home, claiming he’d “found peace” with her. To read more click here.