His Housekeeper Mistress Ruined Him

Summary

I ran into my ex-husband at the school gates, seven years after our divorce.

We were each holding our own child’s hand, passing each other like strangers in the crowd.

But as I turned to walk away, his hand shot out, catching my wrist. His voice was thick with a quiet, bitter ache.

"That girl... she looks just like you did when you were little."

I froze for a fraction of a second.

So, he still remembered.

We had been childhood sweethearts, then young newlyweds. We had witnessed every version of each other, our lives thoroughly woven through the entire tapestry of our youth.