After 15 years of marriage and three children, my ex-husband left me, saying he was tired of my “old face” and wanted someone younger. The divorce was cruel — he tried to take everything, leaving me with half his debts. I rebuilt my life alone and never spoke to him again except through lawyers. Years later, I learned from our children that he was battling advanced cancer. I felt sympathy for my kids but no compassion left for the man who’d destroyed me.

Recently, my grown children sat me down and asked if their father could move into our home. He’s too ill to work, they said, and might soon be homeless. I was stunned and told them no. I couldn’t believe they’d ask me to take in the man who humiliated and abandoned me. They argued that I was being heartless and that he was still their father. I asked who would care for him, since they all worked full time — and, of course, they had no answer.

I reminded them that while their opinions matter, this decision was mine alone — and my answer remained no. They accused me of holding a grudge, but how could I forget the depression, anxiety, and years of pain he caused? They kept pushing, insisting that it wasn’t about my ex but about giving their father “a place to die in peace.” I told them that peace was something I had finally found — and I wasn’t willing to give it up again.

Later that night, my ex called me personally for the first time in years. He asked me to “leave the past behind” and let him stay with us for his final days. I almost laughed — after all, he didn’t want to see my “old face” before, but now that he’s sick, suddenly he remembers it. I told him that he made his choices long ago, and this time, I’m keeping mine.