When my husband Jason asked to sleep in the guest room because of my snoring, I didn’t think much of it. We’d joked about my snoring before.

I thought it was temporary — just a phase. But then he moved his things in. Locked the door. Started showering in there. It wasn’t just about sleep anymore.

Then one night at 2:30 a.m., I noticed he’d left his phone on our nightstand — something he never did. A message popped up: Can you call

me when she’s asleep? – Lana.” My heart dropped. I thought he was having an affair. But what I discovered was worse in a different way.

Lana wasn’t a lover — she was a so-called “business coach.” Jason had been funneling nearly $20,000 of our savings into her

mentorship program, convinced it would make him rich. Late nights, whispers, secrecy — all for a fantasy. When I confronted him,

he didn’t apologize. He didn’t even seem sorry. “You wouldn’t understand high-level strategy,” he said.

That was the moment I knew: this man didn’t just lie — he never truly saw me. Two weeks later, I filed for divorce. Now?

That guest room is mine. I painted it sage green, filled it with books, candles, and quiet. I still snore.

But no one moves away from me. No one locks the door. I don’t dream of revenge or romance. Just peace.