**Jealousy Destroyed Me:** *When I saw my wife get out of another mans car, I lost control and ruined my life.*
I was standing by the window, fists clenched, my heart pounding so hard I felt it was going to explode. The room was in complete silence, but inside my head only one question kept echoing: **Why is it taking so long?**
The clock on the wall ticked the seconds with a deafening *tictac*.
It was late. Too late.
And then I saw the headlights lighting up the street.
A sleek black car stopped right in front of the house. My breath was cut short. A man was behind the wheeltall, sure of himself. A stranger I didnt know.
Then the passengerdoor opened.
And she got out.
Something inside me broke.
She smiled with a casualness that made my blood run cold. She leaned toward the window, whispered something to the driver, and he laughed. He laughed.
Then she closed the door and walked calmly back to the house.
I felt my whole body tighten.
*Who was that man?* *How long has this been happening?* *How could I have been so naïve?*
The door opened and she entered, throwing her purse onto the table with total indifference.
– **Who was he?** I asked, my voice tense.
She stopped and looked at me with a furrowed brow. **Who was who?**
– **The man in the car. Who is he?**
She sighed with irritation, as if she were tired of answering absurd questions.
– **Alejandro, dont start. It was Javier, Martas husband. He took me home because it was late. Are we really going to argue about this?**
But I wasnt listening to her anymore.
My head was a whirlwind. My blood was boiling.
And then my hand rose.
The sound of the slap echoed through the entire room.
She stepped back, bringing her hand to her face. A thin line of blood spurted from her nose.
The silence that followed was terrifying.
Then I saw it in her eyes.
It wasnt anger. It wasnt pain. It was fear.
I knew it was the end.
There was no turning back.
She didnt scream. She didnt cry.
She just took her coat and left.
The next morning, a lawyer knocked on my door with divorce papers.
The court took everything from me even my son.
– **I put up with your jealousy for years,** he said later, his voice as cold as ice. **But violence? Never.**
I begged her to forgive me. I pleaded it was a mistake. A moment of madness. That it would never happen again.
She didnt care.
And then came the final blow in court, they said I was abusive toward our son.
A lie.
A cruel, calculated lie. I had never laid a hand on him. I had never spoken to him harshly.
But who would believe me? A man who had already hit his wife.
The judge didnt hesitate a second.
She got full custody.
Me a few hours a week. Short visits, in a neutral location.
No nights together. No mornings where I could make her breakfast.
For six months I lived only for those moments.
When he (my son) ran into my arms, hugged me tightly, and said how much he missed me.
And then, once again, I had to watch him walk away.
Until one day he said something that shattered me completely.
*The truth my fiveyearold son revealed.*
He was growing up. He was beginning to notice things.
One day, while playing with his toy cars, he said something without thinking:
– **Dad, yesterday Mom wasnt home. A lady came to stay with me.**
My body tensed.
– **What lady?** I asked, a knot in my throat.
– **I dont know. She always comes when Mom goes out at night.**
I could not breathe.
– **And where does Mom go?**
He shrugged. **She doesnt tell me.**
My hands clenched into fists.
I needed to know the truth.
When I discovered it, everything inside me exploded.
She had hired a nanny.
A stranger.
While I was begging for more time with my son, she left him in the hands of a stranger.
I grabbed the phone and called her.
– **Why do you leave our son with a stranger when Im right here?**
Her voice was cold, indifferent. **Because its easier that way.**
– **Easier?!** My breathing grew heavy. **Im his father! If youre not there, he has to be with me.**
She sighed impatiently. **Alejandro, Im not going to bring him to your house every time I have something to do. Stop making a drama out of it.**
My knuckles were white from the pressure I was squeezing the phone with.
What should I do? Report her? Fight in the courts?
And if I lost again?
One mistake.
One instant of fury.
And they had taken everything from me.
But my son
Im not going to lose him.
Im not going to let a stranger raise him.
I will fight.
Because its the only thing I have left.
