Three years after my husband left me and our two children for his glamorous mistress, I ran into them again—and the moment felt like poetic justice. But it wasn’t their downfall that satisfied me. It was realizing how far I had come without them.Stan and I had been married for 14 years. We had built a life together from scratch and had two amazing kids, Lily and Max. I thought we were happy until he brought Miranda home one night and introduced her as the woman he was leaving us for.

He didn’t just ask for a divorce he told me to sleep on the couch because she was staying over. I was blindsided, humiliated, and heartbroken. But for my kids, I stayed strong. I packed up our things and moved in with my mother that very night.The divorce was fast. Stan paid child support for six months then vanished. Lily and Max waited for calls that never came. I learned through others that Miranda convinced him to cut us off completely.

Still, I rebuilt. I got us a small home, focused on my kids, and slowly, we found peace. Three years later, we had a quiet, happy life filled with love, growth, and stability.Then one rainy afternoon, I saw them again sitting at a dingy café, worn down and arguing. Stan spotted me and rushed over, begging to see the kids and apologizing for everything.

Miranda turned on him, blaming him for their ruined life, then stormed off. For the first time, I saw them not as the people who destroyed my marriage, but as two broken strangers.I told Stan he could leave a number, and if the kids wanted to contact him, they would. As I walked away, I felt no anger, no sadness just peace.We didn’t need his regret to heal. We already had everything we needed: each other.