My house was full of friends and family, all gathered to celebrate my birthday. The hum of familiar voices, the cake, and the flowers my daughter had brought over all made for a warm, comforting atmosphere. A reminder that life after divorce didn’t have to be lonely.

“Happy birthday, Mindy!” Greg’s voice snapped me out of my thoughts. I turned to see him grinning at me, his arms wide as he pulled me into a familiar hug.

Greg and I had split amicably two years ago. I still kept his last name, though. It felt like mine as much as his, and besides, the kids still had it. Changing it never seemed necessary.

Beside him was Tom, Greg’s old friend.

“Hey, Tom! Glad you could make it!”

I flashed him my best hostess smile, but his cool response caught me off guard. Normally, he was polite, maybe a bit distant, but tonight, it was like there was a wall up.

Tom and Greg exchanged a quick glance, something subtle, almost… I don’t know, tense? I didn’t think much of it. I had more important things to focus on like my daughter calling me over to cut the cake.

If only I’d paid more attention to the subtle signs then.

Later, I found myself in the kitchen refilling the drink pitchers. Tom was helping, which was a little awkward. Although he and Greg had been friends for years, I never really got to know Tom well.

I was trying to make small talk when he threw out an oddly blunt and direct question.

“So, Mindy, why do you still use Greg’s last name?”

I paused, a little thrown by the question. It wasn’t like people asked me that all the time, especially not years after the divorce.

“I guess it just feels like a part of who I am now. You know? It’s the kids’ last name, too, so it just made sense to keep it.”

Tom looked down at the glass he was holding, his brow furrowed. “It’s more than that, though, isn’t it?” he said, voice a little sharper. “It’s like you’re still holding onto him.”

I blinked, surprised. Holding onto Greg? That was the last thing I’d thought I was doing.

“No, it’s just a name, Tom. I’m not keeping it for sentimental reasons or anything.”

I let out a soft laugh, hoping to lighten the mood, but Tom didn’t laugh with me.

He set the glass down hard on the counter, the sound of it clinking too loud in the quiet. “It makes things… complicated for me. Uncomfortable. You have to stop using his name.”

I felt a knot tighten in my stomach. What was going on here? “Uncomfortable? Why would it make you uncomfortable?”

Tom turned to face me fully now, his eyes sharp, the muscles in his jaw tightening. “Because Greg’s with me now,” he said, his voice low and serious.

For a moment, I couldn’t breathe. I blinked, staring at him like I hadn’t heard him right. “What do you mean, ‘with you’?” I asked, my voice barely more than a whisper.

Tom let out a short, humorless laugh and shook his head, his gaze hardening. “Oh, don’t act surprised. He’s been with me for a while now.”

I felt my stomach twist at the sharpness in his tone, but I forced a smile, trying to keep things calm.

“It took Greg a long time to come out. This whole thing was difficult for everyone, but we’ve all come to terms with it.” I glanced toward the living room, where Greg was chatting with friends. “I’m sure, with time, Greg will be more open about your relationship. You just need to talk to him.”

Tom’s eyes flashed, and his lips tightened into a thin line.

“Talk to him?” His voice was laced with frustration now. “You think I haven’t tried? You think I haven’t been begging him to stop pretending I’m just some ‘friend’ he drags to these things?”

I took a step back, caught off guard by the anger radiating from him. “Tom, I know it’s complicated, but—”

“No, you don’t know.” He cut me off, his voice rising. “You have no idea how hard it’s been for me. You’re standing there, acting like we’ve just started dating, like Greg’s just figuring things out. But this isn’t new, Mindy.”

I blinked, confused by the intensity of his words. “I’m not saying it’s new, but—” I paused, searching for the right words. “Greg’s journey hasn’t been easy. Once he’s more comfortable, he’ll be ready to be honest with everyone. These things take time.”

Tom’s bitter laugh cut through my words like a knife.

“Time? You think it’s about time?” Tom’s eyes darkened, and he leaned in. His next words hit like a punch to the gut. “Greg’s been with me for years — even when you were still married. He’s had plenty of time.”

I stared at him, my mind reeling. “What?”

“You heard me.” His voice was ice cold, the words slicing through the air. “Greg’s been with me for years. Long before your divorce. Things were supposed to be different afterward… he was supposed to acknowledge me…”

A wave of nausea rolled through me as his words sank in. The room seemed to tilt slightly, and I reached for the counter to steady myself.

“You’re lying,” I said, my voice barely more than a whisper.

Tom’s face twisted into a bitter smile. “You wish I were.”

I couldn’t breathe. All the stories I’d told myself about our marriage, about the divorce, about Greg’s struggle to find himself shattered into a million pieces.

“I didn’t know,” I whispered, my voice trembling as the weight of the betrayal settled in my chest like a stone.

“Of course, you didn’t,” Tom said, his voice softening slightly. “Greg made sure of that. It was easier for him to let you believe it was all about him coming out. He wanted to keep things neat and clean. He didn’t want you to hate him.”

Hate him? I didn’t even know what I was feeling.

The morning after the party, I sat at the kitchen table, staring at the mess of old papers in front of me.

Sleep didn’t come easily last night. How could it, after what Tom had said? My thoughts were spinning all night, replaying every detail of my marriage, every moment I thought had been real, but now felt like a lie.

I couldn’t just sit here and wallow in it, though. I needed to do something. I needed answers. And I needed to reclaim my life from the mess he left behind.

That’s when I found it — the prenup we signed all those years ago. I pulled it out from a stack of old documents, my hands trembling as I flipped through the pages.

There it was, staring me in the face: the infidelity clause. If Greg had cheated, he owed me. A lot.

I leaned back in my chair, staring at the paper for a long moment. This was it. Because getting a friendly divorce after he came out was one thing, but discovering that Greg had lied to me for years and been unfaithful… that deserved justice.

I grabbed the prenup, folded it neatly, and then reached for the form I’d printed months ago but never filled out, the one to reclaim my maiden name. Tom was right: it was time to let that name go.

A short while later, I stood outside Greg’s door with the papers clutched tightly in my hand.

When Greg answered the door, he looked confused. “Mindy? What’s going on?”

He had no idea what was coming.

I walked right past him, heading straight for the kitchen. I placed the prenup on the table and pointed to the infidelity clause.

“I thought we ended things honestly,” I said, my voice steady, even though my insides were trembling. “But now I know the truth. You owe me.”

His face paled as the reality of what I was saying sank in. “Mindy, wait. I didn’t—” He stammered, trying to find an excuse. “It wasn’t like that. I never meant to hurt you.”

I raised my hand to stop him. “I’m not interested in your excuses, Greg. You lied to me. You and Tom were together long before we got divorced.”

“Oh God, he told you… that’s why he was so upset,” he mumbled, his voice weak.

I crossed my arms, staring at him with a mix of disbelief and anger. “You owe me, Greg. And one more thing: I’m reclaiming my maiden name. I’m done carrying yours.”

Without another word, I turned and headed for the door. The weight I had carried — the trust I gave and the years I spent believing in a false version of my marriage — fell away with every step I took.

Here’s another story: “No, this can’t be happening!” My husband’s anticipation for our wedding night turned to horror when I took off my wedding dress. I’d been keeping the secret of what lay beneath my dress all day, but it was finally time to expose a shocking revelation.

This work is inspired by real events and people, but it has been fictionalized for creative purposes. Names, characters, and details have been changed to protect privacy and enhance the narrative. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental and not intended by the author.

The author and publisher make no claims to the accuracy of events or the portrayal of characters and are not liable for any misinterpretation. This story is provided “as is,” and any opinions expressed are those of the characters and do not reflect the views of the author or publisher.