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My wife is brilliant. My Angela. How did I get so lucky?\n\n\n
I adjusted my grip on the lilies, imagining her smile after getting them.\n\n
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Her speech ended with thunderous applause. But before I could step forward, another man appeared beside her. He handed her a massive bouquet of orchids, the kind I could never afford.\n\n
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Then, he hugged her. The lilies nearly slipped from my hands.\n\n
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Angela\u2019s face lit up, but not with the smile she gave me. This was warm and intimate.\n\n
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The room blurred around me as I followed them through the crowd, staying just far enough behind to avoid being noticed. They stopped near the exit. I heard her voice, clear and sharp:\n\n
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\n\u201cJust a little longer, and we won\u2019t have to hide. I\u2019m filing for divorce soon.\u201d\n\n\n
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My legs trembled, but I forced myself to step forward. I held out the flowers silently. Angela\u2019s eyes widened, but she didn\u2019t say a word. Without looking back, I turned and walked away.\n\n
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Angela had become someone I barely recognized. The kind, ambitious woman I once adored had transformed into someone cold and cynical. Her sharp words still echoed in my mind.\n\n
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“I don\u2019t love you anymore,” she said after that evening.\n\n
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\n“You\u2019re nothing more than a babysitter, not a real man.”\n\n\n
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The disdain in her eyes cut deeper than I cared to admit. She stood in the middle of the living room, listing her demands as though reading off a shopping list.\n\n
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\n“I\u2019ll take the house, the car, and all the savings. I\u2019ll leave you with the most precious thing. The kids.”\n\n\n
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It wasn\u2019t an act of love. Angela didn\u2019t want them.\n\n
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The divorce dragged on, a cold and transactional process. There were no heartfelt talks, no apologies. I braced myself for the worst, but in the end, the court sided with me. I was granted custody of the children and ownership of the house.\n\n
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It felt like a small victory in a losing battle.\n\n
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But from that moment, everything depended on me. I had to find a job, provide for my kids, and figure out how to rebuild a life that had been shattered.\n\n
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After years as a stay-at-home dad, the job market felt foreign and intimidating.\n\n
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One morning, as I dropped Kevin off at preschool, I stood by the classroom door, watching him run to his friends. A familiar voice pulled me from my thoughts.\n\n
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“Hi, Andrew.” It was Jennifer.\n\n
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She was both one of the single moms in Kevin\u2019s class and a teacher there, someone I\u2019d exchanged polite hellos with but didn\u2019t know well.\n\n
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“We\u2019re looking for a teaching assistant at the preschool,” she continued. “Maybe it\u2019s exactly what you need right now.”\n\n
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Her words surprised me. Teaching assistant? I hadn\u2019t considered anything like that.\n\n
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“Do you think they\u2019d even consider me?” I asked, doubt creeping into my voice.\n\n
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\n“Of course. You\u2019re already great with the kids. Why not make it official?”\n\n\n
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I decided to apply, and within weeks, I started working at the preschool. It wasn\u2019t a permanent job, but it gave me enough income to cover our needs. It also came with free extracurricular activities for the kids and more time to be with them.\n\n
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A few months later, Kevin and Emma were performing in a class play. I stood in the crowd, clapping proudly as my children took their bows.\n\n
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Then, I spotted Angela in the audience. She never attended preschool events, and her presence sent a wave of unease through me. After the performance, she approached me, her smile too wide to be genuine.\n\n
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“Let\u2019s talk,” she said sweetly. “I\u2019ve been thinking… maybe we should give our family another chance.”\n\n
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I froze. Her tone was off and calculated. It didn\u2019t take long to understand why. Her new boyfriend had left her, and her business was struggling. She didn\u2019t want me. She wanted the stability I provided.\n\n
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“I can\u2019t do this,” I said firmly. “You\u2019re welcome to see the kids, but we\u2019re not a family anymore.”\n\n
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Her expression changed instantly. The sugary facade melted away, replaced by cold anger.\n\n
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“If you think you can just refuse me, you\u2019re wrong,” she hissed. “I\u2019ll take the kids. You don\u2019t even have a stable job. The court will rule in my favor.”\n\n
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Her words weren\u2019t about love or parenting. They were about control. Angela didn\u2019t care about the kids. She just wanted to win.\n\n
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The stakes were higher than ever, and I couldn\u2019t afford to lose.\n\n
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The weeks that followed were some of the most stressful of my life. Angela\u2019s legal threats hung over me like a dark cloud, casting a shadow over every moment. I couldn\u2019t sleep without her words echoing in my mind.\n\n
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\n“I\u2019ll take the kids. The court will side with me.”\n\n\n
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It wasn\u2019t just a threat. It was a battle cry, one I couldn\u2019t afford to ignore.\n\n
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Jennifer quickly became my lifeline. She was always there, whether it was to listen, offer advice, or bring me coffee when I looked ready to collapse.\n\n
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\u201cYou\u2019ve been the primary caregiver for years,\u201d she said one evening as we sat in my living room, surrounded by stacks of paperwork. \u201cNo court would take the kids away from you. We just need to prove it.\u201d\n\n
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Her words gave me hope, but I knew hope alone wouldn\u2019t win this fight. Together, we worked tirelessly to gather evidence.\n\n
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We found photos\u2014birthday parties, preschool events, and everyday moments that showed me at the center of my kids\u2019 lives. Jennifer helped collect testimonials from neighbors, teachers, and even the preschool principal, who agreed to write a letter explaining how involved I was in my children\u2019s lives.\n\n
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