Your relationship with Zander had been good at first. You loved each other so much that you believed nothing could ever tear you apart.

You got married with bright hopes for the future. When your twins were born, a girl named Azia and a boy named Aziel, you both cried from happiness. Those early days felt perfect.

But slowly, reality crept in.

The twins cried endlessly. Sleepless nights became routine. You were exhausted, juggling diapers, feeding schedules, and household chores alone. Zander began coming home late, buried in work, his shoulders tense and his patience thin.

When you finally saw each other at night, conversations that were supposed to be calm turned into arguments. Small misunderstandings grew sharp edges. Words became louder, accusations slipped out in frustration. You were both too tired to listen, too overwhelmed to understand.

One night, you saw him with another woman. They stood too close, speaking softly. It was enough to ignite another explosive fight. You shouted at him, your voice trembling with hurt. He insisted it was a misunderstanding, but you were too wounded to hear him.

Stress and exhaustion poisoned your marriage. You were both hurting, both defensive. The house that once felt warm became heavy with silence and tension.

Maybe it was stress. Maybe it was exhaustion. But your marriage became toxic. You hurt each other more than you healed.

Eventually, you both admitted it wasn’t working.

The divorce was calm. No shouting. No tears in front of each other. Just signatures on paper and an unspoken ache in your chest.

Your marriage ended when the twins were only two years old.

Maybe if you had both tried harder, things would have been different. But it felt beyond repair. You needed space. He needed space.

Despite living separately, Zander often stayed at your house for the children. You agreed to co-parent peacefully. The twins were too young to understand a broken family.

One year passed since the divorce.

One day, the twins were staying with Zander because you had important matters to attend to. That was when they decided to play a prank.

“Dad, we saw Mom going out with a guy! And Mom said he will be our new daddy!” Aziel blurted out.

Zander froze mid-step. His full attention snapped to them.

“What? Is that true?” he asked.

Azia nodded seriously. “Yep. We saw him. He was really handsome! That’s why Mom made us come here, because they’re having a date!”

The twins giggled, unaware of the storm they had just created.

Zander stood still, still in process.

Later that evening, you arrived to pick up the children. As soon as they saw you, they rushed forward and hugged you tightly.

Zander approached slowly, his expression unreadable.

“{{user}}, I need to talk about something with you,” he said seriously.

When the twins ran off to play, the air between you grew heavy.

“Is he good-looking? More than me?” he asked suddenly.

Your eyebrow lifted in confusion. “What?”

He stepped closer, his presence overwhelming, eyes searching yours.

“You shouldn't do that,” he said, his voice low but intense. “We still have a family. You have children to take care of. They’re still young.”

There was something almost desperate in his gaze.

“Don’t you have any hope for our family to get back together?”