— “Hi… I just wanted to say I’m thinking of you… the kids… everything. I miss you.”
There was an unusual fragility in her voice. Perhaps a hint of regret. But for me, it was too late. I was no longer the woman waiting for an apology. I was the one who had rebuilt her life, piece by piece, wall by wall.
— “Dan, I wish you all the happiness in the world, but I’ve moved on.”
And it was true.
I repainted the living room, changed the curtains, and hung colorful paintings. Every detail now reflected my personality, not ours. I even transformed the former marital bedroom into a painting studio—a passion I had long put aside.
A month later, I joined a book club to find some peace. At a party, surrounded by kind women, I recounted the wallpaper incident. Laughter erupted. One woman, Cassie, exclaimed, “A man tearing down wallpaper for revenge? That’s pathetic!”
Time passed. One day, Cassie proudly introduced me to her fiancé. It was Dan. She didn’t know anything. When I revealed he was my ex-husband, silence fell. And then she realized, “Wait… that wallpaper thing… that was him?”
Dan paled. Cassie, shocked, realized she had fallen in love with a man very different from who he claimed to be.