Greg looked terrified. He nodded quickly, his bravado completely gone. Kevin released him, and Greg stumbled backward toward the door.

I stood up and walked over to him. I handed him a manila envelope. Inside were the divorce papers I had prepared with my lawyer weeks ago when I first suspected something, along with a bill for $2,300.

“Don’t come back to the house,” I said. “The locks are already being changed. Your bags are on the porch. I am taking the house, Greg. The deed is in my name, and my lawyer will make sure you don’t get a single penny of my savings.”

Greg stared at the envelope, then at me. He tried to speak, but no words came out. He looked small, pathetic, and completely defeated. He turned and practically ran out the door, leaving the pizza boxes on the floor.

It has been six months since that afternoon. The divorce was finalized last week. Thanks to the evidence from the investigator and Greg’s own confession during the deposition, I kept the house and my savings. Greg had to pay back every cent of the pizza charges as part of the settlement.

Kevin and Linda are divorced now, too. Kevin moved to a new house on the other side of town, and we still talk occasionally. We are both healing from the betrayal of the people we loved.

Yesterday, I took Lily shopping. We passed the camping aisle, and she stopped in front of a bright yellow sleeping bag with giant sunflowers on it.

“Can I get this one, Mommy?” she asked, looking up at me with her big, innocent eyes. “For my sleepovers at Grandma’s?”

I looked at the yellow sleeping bag. It was bright, warm, and had absolutely nothing to do with the past. I smiled, feeling a genuine sense of peace for the first time in months.

“Yes, sweetie,” I said, tossing it into the cart. “We can get that one. It is beautiful.”

We walked out of the store into the bright afternoon sun. I held my daughter’s hand tightly, knowing that our future was finally our own.