After ten years of marriage and countless betrayals, I divorced Ethan. He cheated repeatedly and was rarely home, leaving me to raise our four kids alone. When his young fiancée, Sarah, showed up at my door with a suitcase and a smug smile, claiming the house was now hers as an engagement gift, I knew I couldn’t let her take what belonged to my children.

Ethan tried to justify it, saying the house was legally his and he needed it back for their new life. But this was the home my kids grew up in—their memories etched into every corner. I refused to be pushed out and took him back to court, not for the house, but for fair child support. I presented proof of every expense and every missed moment from Ethan’s side.

The judge agreed: Ethan’s support was woefully insufficient. The payments increased significantly, forcing him to step up financially. We moved in with my mom temporarily, sharing a small space, but I worked hard—saving every penny and eventually renting a cozy apartment with a big backyard where my kids could feel safe.

Months later, Ethan emailed me, admitting Sarah only wanted his money and that he’d ended the engagement. He offered to sign the house over to me legally, but I declined. I’ve built a better life for my children—one based on stability and love, not broken promises.

No, we’re not going back. This time, I’m standing firm for my kids and for myself. What would you do if you were in my shoes?