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

A week later, I sat Ethan down in the living room. The sea breeze filtered through the windows as I handed him the lab report.

He read it without flinching.

“I did it for you,” he said finally. “You worry too much. You think too much. I just wanted you to relax—to stop aging yourself with stress.”

He said it as if he were explaining a favor.

Something inside me snapped. “You didn’t want me to relax,” I said quietly. “You wanted control. You wanted a wife who wouldn’t notice what you were taking from her.”

His shrug was almost casual. “You’re overreacting.”

That was the last night he spent under my roof.

Reclaiming My Life

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