I Thought My Life Was Over After Divorce Until I Met My Ex’s Mistress — Story of the Day

That day, I lost everything. The divorce was finalized, leaving me with nothing but a suitcase of clothes, a few personal items, and the old Cadillac sitting in the café parking lot. It was the only thing Garrett hadn’t fought me for in court, but even that felt like a cruel reminder of everything I’d lost.

My job was gone, too, and every penny I had went to my lawyer, who, despite his endless promises, couldn’t win the case. I had fallen behind on rent and was officially evicted that morning.

Now, I sat in a small café with Ashton, my oldest and closest friend, trying to make sense of what my life had become.

“I still don’t understand why you won’t just stay at my place for a while,” Ashton said, breaking the silence. “It’s not a big deal, Kate. You need a place to figure things out.”

He was always so calm.

I sighed, glancing down at the suitcase beside me.

“Because I need to do this on my own. I’ve already lost everything, Ashton. The last thing I want is to feel like I’m someone else’s responsibility.”

“You’re not a responsibility. You’re my friend.”

“It’s not that simple. I’ve been dependent on Garrett for so long. I need to prove to myself that I can survive on my own.”

“And living out of your car is your idea of survival?”

I let out a dry laugh. “Pretty much, yeah. It’s all I’ve got left.”

He shook his head, clearly frustrated. “You know I’m not going to let you do that.”

“Let me?” I shot him a look. “I’m not asking for permission, Ashton.”

“I’m not permitting you. I’m offering help.”

We sat in silence for a moment. I couldn’t let myself lean on him. Not like this. I wasn’t ready.

Suddenly, the door to the café opened, and that unmistakable scent of expensive perfume hit me like a wave. I didn’t need to look to know who it was.

“Ashton,” I muttered under my breath. “It’s her.”

He followed my gaze toward the door.

“Celeste?” His voice tightened as he saw her.

She had once been my friend and was now the reason my marriage was in ruins. She was everything I wasn’t—polished, perfect, and unapologetic.

***

Celeste approached our table with that familiar smile that always felt just a little too perfect.

“Kate, how are you?” she asked as if we were still old friends. “It’s been ages.”

“Yeah, it’s been a while.”

Ashton stayed silent next to me. I could feel the tension radiating from him already. Celeste didn’t seem to notice, or maybe she didn’t care.

“You look… tired,” she said with a slight frown. “Everything okay?”

“It’s… complicated.”

“I’ve heard,” she said softly, leaning in a bit. “I ran into some mutual acquaintances. They told me about what’s been happening… the divorce and everything else.”

I looked at Celeste, unsure what to say.

“I can’t imagine how hard it’s been for you,” she continued. “But Kate, you don’t have to go through this alone.”

I blinked, caught off guard. “What are you talking about?”

“I want to help,” she said as if we were still the best of friends.

“I’ve got some people who could help you get back on your feet. A job, maybe even a place to stay.”

Ashton couldn’t hold it in any longer.

“You want to help? After everything you’ve done?”

“I regret what happened, Ashton,” Celeste said, turning her attention to him.

Then she gave me a soft smile, reaching into her bag.

“I made mistakes, but that doesn’t mean I don’t care. Here,” she said, sliding cash across the table.

“It’s enough for a few nights at a good hotel. And I’m hosting a party later this week. There will be people there who can help you restart your career. You should come.”

I glanced at Ashton, who was visibly holding back his frustration. He finally spoke.

“Kate doesn’t need your help. She already has help.”

Celeste stood up, brushing invisible dust off her dress.

“I’ll leave you to think about it, Kate. The offer’s on the table.”

She gave one last smile before walking out of the café. As soon as the door closed behind her, Ashton turned to me.

“You can’t be serious about this.”

“Ashton, I’m desperate!” I said, my voice louder than I intended. “I don’t have many options here.”

“You have me. I’ve been here for you. I’ve been offering to help.”

“I know,” I shot back, frustration bubbling over. “But I can’t keep depending on you for everything.”

“So, you’d rather take help from her? From the woman who destroyed your life?”

“Maybe she’s trying to fix things,” I muttered, though I didn’t fully believe it.

Ashton’s eyes darkened.

“If you won’t listen to me, fine. But I’m not letting you walk into this alone. I’m going to that party with you, whether you like it or not.”

There was no point in arguing with him. “Fine. We’ll go together.”

***

The moment I walked into the party, I knew I was out of place. The room shimmered with people in formal dresses, tailored suits, and sparkling glasses. I glanced down at my jeans and sweater, wishing I had turned back the second I walked in.

Ashton, where are you?

Then I saw Garrett! The realization hit me. That wasn’t just a party. It was their engagement celebration. Just then, Celeste’s voice echoed through the space, pulling me back to reality.

“Everyone, can I have your attention? I want to take a moment to thank someone special.”

Oh no. My heart sank. I know where this is going.

“I want to thank Kate,” she continued, her voice dripping with sweetness. “Without her, I wouldn’t have met the love of my life.”

I felt my face burn. My gaze shifted to Garrett’s parents. Their disapproving eyes fixed on me like I was a stray dog that had wandered in.

Someone in the crowd called out, “Kate, why don’t you make a toast?”

I felt every pair of eyes in the room turn toward me.

The words stuck in my throat, panic rising like a tidal wave. My stomach churned, and before I could stop it, I was sick. Right there, in front of everyone.

I bolted, pushing past the shocked stares and gasps, running out of the room as fast as I could. Tears blurred my vision, but I didn’t care. I needed to escape.

***

After that disastrous night, I found myself staying with Ashton. I didn’t plan on it, but after what happened, I couldn’t face the world. I felt completely drained.

Days blurred together as I hid away, avoiding everything and everyone. Ashton, patient as always, didn’t push me. He just made sure I was okay, kept the coffee coming, and let me sit in silence.

“Kate,” Ashton finally said one morning, breaking the comfortable quiet we’d settled into. “Have you thought about painting again?”

I glanced up at him from the couch, where I’d been curled up for hours.

“I don’t know if I’m ready. What’s the point?”

“Someone asked about your work,” he said casually as if it wasn’t a big deal. “They want to buy one of your paintings.”

“You’re serious?”

“Yeah. There’s still interest in what you do, Kate. You shouldn’t give up on it.”

“I don’t know, Ash. I’m not sure I can.”

“You can. You’re not done yet.”

I am not done yet.

That thought planted itself in my mind, and the next day, I began working on a piece I had always hesitated to finish. It was my favorite, not because it was the best thing I had ever painted, but because it represented a part of me that I still liked.

The days that followed were a blur of color and brushstrokes. For the first time in what felt like forever, I was focused on something other than the mess of my life.

“Are you going to sell it?” Ashton asked one afternoon, glancing at the finished painting.

“I think so,” I said, though part of me still clung to it. “It’s time.”

***

The sale brought me more than money. I was able to rent a small apartment. It wasn’t much, but it was mine.

Slowly, I began working on new paintings, losing myself in the process. My confidence returned bit by bit, and before long, I was ready for the next step.

The day of my exhibition had finally arrived. As I walked through the gallery, making sure everything was perfect, I noticed an extra painting covered by a cloth, propped up in the corner.

“Ashton, what’s this?” I asked, pointing toward it.

“That one’s for you. I thought it should be part of the exhibition. Consider it a gift.”

I stepped forward and pulled the cloth away. My breath caught in my throat. It was my first painting.

“Oh my God,” I whispered, my hand flying to my mouth. “How…?”

“I bought it,” Ashton said, stepping closer.

“I couldn’t let it go. I knew how much it meant to you, even when you thought it didn’t. You were struggling, Kate, and I wanted to make sure you didn’t lose that part of yourself.”