When my husband, Kyle, claimed he had muscular dystrophy and couldn’t work anymore, I trusted him completely. I took on a second job, sacrificing my own well-being to support him, but everything changed when a stranger revealed the truth.
One night, a woman warned me to check Kyle’s treatments and bank statements. I discovered he wasn’t sick at all. Instead, he had been lying about his health, using my hard-earned money for luxury expenses while I worked endlessly. I followed him one evening and saw him enjoying drinks with friends, bragging about how he’d fooled me.
I froze our bank account, transferred the remaining money, and sent Kyle a message: “Treat your vanity and cruelty—that’s your real illness. Don’t bother coming home.” I packed up, took my kids, and filed for divorce. Kyle’s betrayal has shattered everything, but soon, I’ll be free.
