My Husband Traded Our Family of Four for His Mistress — Three Years Later, I Met Them Again, and It Was Perfectly Satisfying

I had just finished grocery shopping when I saw them. Stan and Miranda were sitting at a shabby outdoor café, and they looked… defeated. Stan was a shadow of his former self, his tailored suits replaced by a wrinkled shirt. Miranda’s once-polished appearance was now a façade; her faded dress and worn handbag betrayed their struggles.

Stan spotted me and called out, his voice tinged with desperation. Against my better judgment, I approached them. Miranda avoided eye contact, her demeanor icy. Stan began rambling apologies, asking to see the kids and make amends. But it was too little, too late.