They say love makes you blind, and I was a perfect example. When my husband, Kyle, quit his job claiming illness, I believed him without question. I worked harder, giving him every penny for his supposed treatment. But what I uncovered shattered everything.

As a wife and mother, I worked at a software company to support our small family, including our two boys, Liam and Jake. Kyle, my husband of 15 years, had always been my steady rock. But everything changed when Kyle came home one day, looking pale, and told me he had muscular dystrophy. He said he couldn’t work anymore and needed expensive treatments.

Determined to support him, I took on a second job cleaning tables at a local restaurant. Kyle seemed happier, and I kept going, even as exhaustion set in. He insisted I didn’t need to come to his treatments, and I trusted him completely. But one evening, a stranger pulled up in a white SUV and warned me to check where Kyle was really going for his treatments and look at his bank statements.

The next day, I did just that. I found no medical expenses, only charges for luxury items and a weekend getaway. Kyle wasn’t getting treatment; he was living a lie, spending money on himself while I worked two jobs.

I followed him to his next “treatment” and found him at a bar, laughing with friends and boasting about how he’d fooled me. Devastated, I learned from the woman who had warned me that her boyfriend was Kyle’s friend and couldn’t stay silent.

The next day, I took action. I called Kyle’s office and froze our joint account, paying off the mortgage and opening a new account in my name. I sent Kyle a text saying, Treat your vanity and cruelty—that’s your real illness. Don’t bother coming home.

I packed my things, changed the locks, and took the boys to my parents. Kyle tried calling, but I ignored him and filed for divorce, determined to move on from the man who betrayed me in ways I never imagined.