Going on a trip with my sister was meant to be a refreshing break for me to reset and return to my small family of three revived. But instead, coming back turned into a nightmare! My husband of nine years betrayed me and our daughter in a way I couldn’t forgive and that caused us to leave.

I never thought a quick two-day trip would be enough to unravel everything I believed about my marriage. When I left Friday morning, I felt content, even a little smug, thinking John and Lila would enjoy a weekend together. But when I stepped through the front door Sunday night, I was met with something completely different…

I’ll be honest, when I agreed to leave my daughter, Lila, with her father, John, for the weekend, I only had high hopes for their bonding. I pictured them making pancakes on Saturday morning, watching movies, and just having the kind of quality time they didn’t always get when I was around.

I was gone for a quick girls’ getaway with my sister, Tanya, but it was enough time for my husband and our daughter to end up with a destroyed bathroom door…

When I got home on Sunday, the sight of Lila’s hug and John’s forced smile felt off from the beginning. My eyes immediately landed on the bathroom door. The top half of it was practically shredded as if someone had taken an axe to it!

Splintered wood was scattered on the floor, the door handle dangled loosely, and the lock was smashed into a heap of metal. None of them would tell me the truth about what had caused all the damage.

“What happened to the bathroom door?” I asked, trying to keep my voice calm.

I looked from my husband to Lila, hoping one of them would have an explanation that made sense. Instead, John looked stressed and shifted his weight while avoiding my eyes. Our daughter wasn’t any better, as her awkwardness about the situation was quite visible.

“Oh, it got stuck while I was in there, so I had to break it open,” my husband said, his voice low and unconvincing. “No big deal.”

I blinked, trying to process what he said before asking, “You got locked in? Why didn’t you call someone? And where was Lila?”

My daughter stood silently by the stairs, eyes glued to the ground. Normally, she would have jumped in with some sort of comment, something to explain away the weird tension in the room. But she didn’t. It was like she was a statue, rooted in place, and that made my heart race.