The warm May evening wrapped around the city like a soft blanket. Layla sat on the balcony of their new countryside home, watching James tend to the grill.

Their six-year-old son, Max, chased a ball across the yard, while four-year-old Leah eagerly helped her father by handing him small items.

Layla smiled, feeling fulfilled. Life seemed full of promise. James had recently started his own business in building materials, and she had been by his side from the beginning, handling bookkeeping and documentation. Though she had put her law studies on hold, she still hoped to return one day.

Time passed quickly—five years unnoticed.

James’s small business grew into a thriving company, occupying an entire floor in a business center. But as success came, so did distance. Meetings and business commitments took up more of his time, leaving little for family.

One evening, after putting the kids to bed, Layla sat beside him. “James, we need to talk.”

“Tomorrow, dear,” he said, barely glancing up from his laptop. “I have important negotiations.”

“Every day you say that. The kids miss you.”

James finally looked up. “I’m doing this for our family, Layla.”

“For which family? You’re hardly here.”‘

“What do you want? To abandon everything I’ve built?” he snapped, shutting the conversation down.

Not long after, James hired a young, ambitious assistant, Vika. Layla noticed the changes immediately—longer hours at work, expensive new accessories, a different scent lingering on his clothes.

Then, one evening, he came home early. His face was tense.

“We need to talk.”

Layla’s heart clenched. “What happened?”

“I filed for divorce,” he stated bluntly. “I need to move on. The family has become a burden. By the end of the week, I want you out. The house is in my name.”

Layla stared, stunned. “And the kids?”