Arthur and I met at a book club and married two years later, building a seemingly perfect life filled with love, laughter, and our sweet boy, Ben. We had comforting routines Saturday pancakes, family movie nights, and Sunday walks that made our world feel secure and sincere. Arthur was the kind of man others admired—loyal, dependable, a wonderful father or so I believed. That illusion came crashing down the day of his father’s funeral, where something unexpected unraveled everything. At the funeral reception, I left Ben with Arthur while I…