Jack never took sick days—not even when his mother died—so when he stayed home sick one morning, I was surprised. But the real shock came when I opened the door and found a life-sized porcelain statue of Jack on our porch. It was disturbingly accurate. Even Jack was horrified when he saw it.

He dragged it inside without explanation, begging me to take the kids and promising answers later. As we left, my son handed me a note he’d found under the statue. It read:

Jack,
I’m returning the statue I made while believing you loved me.
Finding out you’ve been married for ten years destroyed me.
You owe me $10,000… or your wife sees every message.
—Sally

My world cracked open. I dropped the kids at school, cried in a parking lot, and called a divorce lawyer. That night, I found emails on Jack’s laptop—proof of an affair with the sculptor, Sally. He begged her to stay quiet, told her he still loved her. I contacted Sally. She said Jack told her he was divorced. They’d been together nearly a year. She agreed to testify.

In court, the truth came out. I got the house, full custody, and Sally got her $10,000. Jack didn’t look at me once. Outside, he tried to explain. “You never meant for me to find out,” I said, and walked away—leaving him with his lies, his statue, and nothing else.