I had always believed I married a reliable, trustworthy man, but everything changed the day I came home early from a work trip to Germany.
My 17-year-old son, Caleb, was nowhere to be found.
It didn’t take long before I found him, rummaging through trash three blocks away—thin, dirty, and clearly frightened. My heart sank when I saw him in that condition.
It turned out that Travis, my husband, had thrown Caleb out weeks earlier, without telling me. Caleb explained that Travis had accused him of being disrespectful and even threatened to lie if he reached out to me.
While I was away, Caleb had been sleeping in garages, eating expired food, and struggling to survive. Meanwhile, Travis had turned our house into a nonstop party zone. I was furious—furious at Travis and at myself.
I got Caleb settled into a warm bed and gave him a hot meal. Then I made one important phone call—to Marcus, a friend and former cop. Together, we staged a fake arrest and demanded $15,000 from Travis. Terrified of the legal trouble, Travis caved quickly.
The very next day, I filed for divorce. When Travis came storming into my office, I stayed calm and told him, “You failed my son. We’re done.”
Every penny of the $15,000 went to Caleb. “Use it for something that matters,” I told him.
We moved into a modest apartment near his school, just the two of us. Life is quieter now, but it’s also stronger.
From now on, I’ll always put my son first—and I’ll never let another man come between us.
