The Night I Finally Woke Up: How I Discovered the Truth About My Much-Younger Husband

That night, I didn’t drink the tea.

When Ethan noticed, he frowned. “Why didn’t you finish it?”

“I’m not sleepy tonight,” I replied, watching his face carefully.

He smiled, but his eyes hardened for the first time. “You’ll feel better if you drink it, baby. You know I only want what’s best for you.”

The warmth in his voice was gone—replaced by something colder, controlling.

When he left for work the next morning, I checked the kitchen drawer. The amber bottle was still there, half empty, without a label. I sealed it in a plastic bag, called my lawyer, and started moving every piece of my life out of his reach.

Confrontation

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