There was a pause on the other end, and for a moment, I wondered if he was going to say something that would tear the wound open even further. But then, in a tone almost too calm, Mark finally said, “Rachel’s leaving. She said she can’t stay in a house with a man who lets his ‘crazy ex-wife’ get away with things like this.”
The words hit me like a punch to the gut, but I wasn’t surprised. It was only a matter of time before Rachel would twist the story in her favor, as she always did.
“Good luck with that,” I replied, the bitterness slipping into my voice. “Maybe now you’ll learn how to protect your daughter. Maybe now you’ll finally realize who you really should be standing up for.”
Without waiting for his reply, I hung up, my hand shaking as I set the phone down.
The next few days were a blur. Word spread quickly, as it always did. Rachel’s social media rant about “crazy exes” had been met with the kind of response I could only describe as karma. People weren’t asking for her side of the story—they were asking why she would destroy something precious to a teenager. Her post was taken down within 24 hours, replaced by a vague apology about “misunderstandings” and “tensions.”