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I was 34, finally pregnant and ready to build the family I' d always dreamed of with Caleb, six years my junior. He said he loved my maturity, my independence, my established life – making me feel cherished. But then I found his laptop, open to a group chat called "The Wolfpack." The messages cut deep: I was his "training wheels," a "practice run" for the "real thing" – his high school sweetheart, Molly. My world shattered as I realized every sacrifice I'd made, every penny I' d spent on him, was part of his cruel game. The stress the betrayal caused led to a painful miscarriage, but that wasn't the worst. At the hospital, Caleb introduced me as a mere "colleague" to Molly, the very woman he' d been practicing for. Later, back home amidst his mocking friends, Molly "accidentally" spilled boiling soup on me, then whispered, "He' ll never want a desperate old hag like you." When I tried to retaliate, Caleb burst in and slapped me, hard, for daring to "hurt" his precious Molly. He left me bleeding and broken on the floor, while his friends – the Wolfpack – leered, suggesting they could "have some fun while he' s gone." How could the man who promised me a future be such a monster? How could I have been so blind? Lying there, bleeding, I realized I had to escape this nightmare. With the last shred of my dignity, I decided to leave, determined to start a new life where I was truly free.