On a flight home from visiting my mother, I never imagined I’d be seated next to Clara, my husband Oscar’s ex-wife. At first,

it seemed like coincidence, but casual conversation quickly turned unsettling. Clara revealed that the house

I now lived in had once been her dream home, designed with Oscar before their divorce. Then she mentioned

that Oscar still sent her flowers on her birthday and their anniversary — something he had never told me.

Each detail chipped away at the trust I thought was solid. Clara went on to say that Oscar still called her

during difficult times, even after our arguments. She wasn’t spiteful; she said I deserved to know.

But hearing it from her, not him, made me feel like a stranger in my own marriage.

By the time the plane landed, Clara apologized, but the damage was done. Sitting in the airport café afterward,

I realized the problem wasn’t just the flowers or the phone calls — it was the secrecy. My trust was broken. I sent Oscar a short message:

“It’s over. Speak to Clara.” In that moment, I knew I couldn’t continue a marriage built on half-truths and hidden loyalties.