Update 2: The Arrival
Landed stateside at 0600. Three weeks early. Only my chain of command and Martinez knew.
“You good, brother?” Martinez asked as he threw my bag into his truck.
“Better than I’ve been in months. Clear head, clear purpose.”
“Need backup?”
“Just be ready. Might need help moving boxes later.”
Stop one: my lawyer. Signed everything. Custody paperwork ready. Divorce filing prepared. Evidence organized.
Lawyer said, “This is thorough. No judge will side with her after seeing this.”
Stop two: the bank. Though the separation was already underway, I transferred half the remaining joint savings into my new account. My deployment pay, reenlistment bonus—my earnings.
Stop three: storage unit. Large. Empty. Soon to be filled.
Stop four: home. But I waited.
At 1000, Kendra would be at her part-time boutique job. Kids still at school.
I stepped into the house for the first time in five months. Everything felt different when you knew what had been happening inside. Wedding pictures still on the wall. Family photos smiling back. Nothing but lies.
I started packing. Not my belongings—hers.
Carefully, systematically. All her clothes, jewelry, personal items. Boxed, labeled, and loaded into the truck Martinez lent me. I left the bedroom untouched except for one thing: a printed still from the security footage—her and Brett in our bed—with a note: Welcome to consequences.
Then I set up my laptop in the kitchen. Pulled up every piece of evidence. And waited.
The kids would be home soon.
I heard the bus. The front door opened.
“Mom? I’m home!” Cody’s voice.
The happiness on his face nearly shattered me. Ten years old. Hadn’t seen his dad in five months. He sprinted straight at me.
