My husband burst into the room so suddenly that Tiffany Evans and I didn't have a second to swap places.
"So it's true," he spat. "Someone tried to blackmail me—said they had dirt on you. I didn't want to believe it, but I was suspicious enough to keep my distance. And now I catch you red-handed!"
He ignored Tiffany's tear-streaked face, tossed the divorce papers onto the bed, and ordered her to sign.
I shot a look at Tiffany. Her spirit was completely shattered. Just like that, I thought—another woman joins the divorced club.
After he stormed out, Tiffany broke down, sobbing and swearing up a storm, convinced Ryan Lowell was the one who'd sold her out.
"He ruined my life… and I'm going to ruin his!"
I did my best to calm her, biting my tongue through her rage. I'd been there before—blaming everyone but myself.
When she finally quieted down, I laid everything out as gently as I could, urging her to think straight. She nodded like she got it.
I thought she understood. But before she'd even pulled herself together, she made sure Ryan's wife found out about the affair.
"If I go down, he's going down with me," she said. Total mutual destruction—that was the plan.
And just like that, Ryan's marriage blew up.
He called her over and over, but she refused to pick up. Desperate, he called me instead.
I braced for a stream of curses. But instead, he roared through the phone that he had oligospermia—his chances of fathering a child were almost zero. He warned Tiffany to find out whose baby she'd really lost.
I went cold. That hit harder than any insult.
Tiffany looked like she'd been struck by lightning. In a panic, she demanded the hospital test the fetal tissue from her abortion the day before.
The result?
It was her husband's after all.