It gets even worse for David. His tech company had a very strict policy about using corporate-issued phones for personal social media monetization. Because he had tagged his office location in several of his secret posts to impress his followers, and had taken photos inside their secure database room, his HR department launched an investigation.

He was terminated for cause by Friday afternoon. He lost his company car, his salary, and his health insurance in one fell swoop.

Maya’s mother drove down from Cleveland that evening to pick her up. She was a very traditional, strict schoolteacher. I had called her myself. When she arrived, she didn’t even look at David. She walked up to my porch, looked me in the eye, and apologized for her daughter’s behavior. Then she made Maya pack every single one of her bags into the trunk of her Buick and drove away, ignoring Maya’s sobbing. That was the community verdict.

David ended up moving into a cheap, temporary motel near the highway. He tried to call me 14 times that weekend. I didn’t answer a single one. I blocked his number, his email, and his secret Instagram account. I even blocked his regular one.

That was 3 weeks ago.

Yesterday, Emma and I were in the backyard. The sun was coming out, warming up the Ohio soil. We were planting tomato starts in the small garden bed by the fence. Emma was laughing because she had dirt all over her knees.

I reached into my pocket to grab my keys, and I felt the little leather keychain she had made me last year to match David’s phone case. It had that same crooked little “E” stamped into the corner. I looked at it and smiled.

I don’t have a husband anymore. I don’t have a nanny. But I have my daughter, I have my house, and I have my peace.

And for the first time in 14 years, I can sleep at night knowing exactly who is in my bed.