23/03/2025
STORY TITLE : At 7 months pregnant, her husband called her ugly, his friends laughed, but when…
Lisa was seven months pregnant, carrying groceries up three flights of stairs while her husband sat on the couch playing video games. When she finally set the bags down, sweating and out of breath, he looked at her and said, "You're getting disgusting to look at. You better lose that weight fast, or I'll find someone who actually takes care of herself."
His friends laughed. Lisa just smiled.
Seventy-two hours later, he was calling her nonstop, begging.
Lisa was sitting in a hotel room, still seven months pregnant, trying to process everything that had happened. Was she overreacting? Was she in shock? She didn’t know. But she needed to get this out somewhere.
For context, she and Richard had been together for five years, married for three. They met doing community theater—she worked on costumes while he played the lead. He had that super charismatic musician type of energy, passionate about everything. She fell hard.
Things started shifting when she got pregnant. It wasn’t planned, but after the initial shock, she was excited. Richard? Not so much. He said all the right things, but actions speak louder than words, and his actions were spending more time gaming with his friends and less time helping around the house. Lisa told herself he was just processing the big change in his own way.
Plus, the pregnancy had been rough—throwing up nonstop for three months, then anemia, and now her back felt like someone was twisting it in half most days.
Which brought her to today.
She had just finished work and stopped by Trader Joe’s on the way home. They lived in a third-floor walk-up, no elevator, and her car was full of groceries. When she got home, Richard was sprawled on the couch playing Call of Duty with his headset on, surrounded by empty energy drink cans.
Lisa asked if he could help bring up the groceries.
He just waved her off. "I'm in the middle of something important."
So there she was, seven months pregnant, waddling up and down three flights of stairs with heavy grocery bags. By the sixth trip, she was drenched in sweat, her back screaming, her ankles swelling inside her shoes.
When she finally set the last bags down, she collapsed onto a kitchen chair, trying to catch her breath. That’s when Richard looked over from the couch and said, "I'm not even exaggerating. Jesus. You're getting disgusting to look at. You better lose that weight fast after the baby, or I’ll find someone who actually takes care of herself."
Lisa couldn’t even process what she just heard. Then she heard laughter coming through his headset. His gaming friends heard him. He wanted them to hear him.
Instead of crying or screaming like he probably expected, she walked over, smiled, kissed his forehead, and told him she needed a shower.
The confused look on his face would have been funny if she wasn’t dying inside.
In the shower, with the water drowning out any sound, she finally let herself cry. But they weren’t just sad tears. They were angry tears. Clarity tears.
She suddenly saw every red flag she had ignored for five years in perfect focus.
This wasn’t new behavior. It was just the most blatant example yet. This was who he really was. And she was about to bring a child into this. A child who would learn that this was what relationships looked like. A child who would either learn to treat others this way or accept being treated this way.
No. Just no.
Lisa got out of the shower, put on her comfiest maternity dress, and told Richard she needed some air and time to think.
He barely looked up from his game.
She grabbed her hospital go-bag, already packed because she was a planner, her laptop, her important documents, and walked out.
Now, she was sitting in a hotel about twenty minutes away. She had called her sister, Janet, who lived about an hour from there, and she was coming the next day to help figure things out.
Richard had called twice and texted once.
Not asking where she was.
Not asking if she was okay.
He asked where the leftovers were in the fridge.
Lisa needed to leave him. She needed to protect herself and her baby.
But she was terrified.
She was seven months pregnant. Their lease was in both their names. Their finances were somewhat entangled, though she had always kept a separate account for her paychecks, thank God.
She had been counting on having a partner for childcare and expenses.
But she kept coming back to that moment in the kitchen.
The casual cruelty. The way he said it, like he was commenting on the weather. The fact that he wanted his friends to hear it.
She should have left years ago.
She deserved better.
Her baby deserved better.
Lisa didn’t know exactly what her next steps were.
But she knew she wasn’t going back to that apartment tonight.
Maybe not ever.
Edit: A lot of people were asking if this was the first time he had said something like this.
No.
It wasn’t.
There had been jokes about her changing body throughout the pregnancy. Comments about how she used to be so hot. Questions about her plan to get back in shape.
But they were always couched as concern or wrapped in enough humor that she could tell herself he didn’t mean it that way.
Today was just mask off.
Richard and Lisa have had many conversations about division of labor, especially since she got pregnant. His promises to do better lasted about forty-eight hours. She had suggested couples therapy three times, but he was always too busy. Today wasn’t a one-off bad day—it was just the day she finally saw clearly.
It was 2:00 a.m., and she couldn’t sleep. Richard had finally realized she wasn’t coming home and had been blowing up her phone. First with confusion—Where are you? Then with irritation—You’re being dramatic. Then with attempts at guilt—I was just joking. You know how the guys are.
The latest text was a threat about how she better not be spending their money on a hotel. Their money. The same money that was 90% from her paycheck while he invested in his music career and gaming setup.
She had decided. She was meeting with a lawyer before she went back to that apartment.
She muted his notifications and tried to rest for her baby’s sake.
Her sister would be here in the morning.
The baby was kicking like crazy.
She placed her hand on her belly and whispered, “I’ve got you. We’re going to be okay.”
And for the first time today, she actually believed it.
After that night when Richard called her disgusting for gaining pregnancy weight, her sister, Janet, came. They talked through her options.
They decided she needed to go back to the apartment temporarily while she got her affairs in order.
Many people had warned her not to let Richard know she was planning to leave until she was ready.
And OMG, they were so right.
When she returned home, Richard acted like nothing had happened.
When she brought up his comment, he rolled his eyes and said she was being too sensitive—that it was just a joke.
Then he tried to turn it around on her, saying, You’ve been so moody lately. I’m walking on eggshells.
He actually said, Do you know how hard this pregnancy has been for me?
For him.
She nearly lost it.
But she remembered her plan.
She took a deep breath, apologized for overreacting, and said she was just tired and hormonal.
The relief on his face was immediate.
He thought he had won.
That she was back in line.
That everything could go back to normal.
Little did he know—she was already consulting with a divorce attorney.
The past month had been one of the most challenging of her life.
She had been living a double life—outwardly playing the role of apologetic, pregnant wife while systematically preparing to leave.
Here’s what she had done so far:
- She had been keeping a detailed journal of Richard’s behavior, including dates, times, and exactly what he said.
- She had quietly recorded some of their conversations on her phone when he was particularly nasty. Her lawyer said this could help with the divorce.
- She had always kept her paycheck going to her personal account, thank God, but she had now moved her direct deposit entirely to a new account at a different bank.
- She had been slowly moving money from their joint account to her private account in small amounts that wouldn’t raise suspicion—basically reclaiming what she had contributed over the years.
- While going through their financial records, she discovered something that made her sick to her stomach—Richard had a credit card in her name that she didn’t know existed.
- He had racked up over $5,000 in debt for his gaming PC and other things.
- She had reported the fraud to the credit card company and provided evidence it wasn’t her.
- She had gathered all important documents—birth certificate, marriage license, bank statements, tax returns—everything was now in a secure location outside their apartment.
- Her sister had helped her find a small two-bedroom apartment—ground floor, no stairs, laundry in-unit, secure building.
- She had signed the lease last week. It wasn’t fancy, but it was clean, safe, and hers.
- She had been quietly packing essential items—slowly gathering her truly important possessions and moving them to her sister’s place when Richard was out. Nothing obvious enough for him to notice.
- She had also gotten a burner phone that Richard didn’t know about.
- Her regular phone stayed with her and acted normal, but she had a backup he couldn’t track.
Living this double life had been exhausting, especially while eight months pregnant.
Her ankles were constantly swollen.
Her back ached all the time.
The baby felt like she was practicing parkour on her bladder and ribs simultaneously.
But each step she took toward freedom gave her strength.
The hardest part had been pretending everything was normal.
Cooking his meals.
Laughing at his jokes.
Listening to him complain about his bandmates.
Watching him play video games for hours while she handled everything else.
Even sleeping next to him made her skin crawl now that she had stopped gaslighting herself about who he really was.
And he had gotten worse.
Now that he thought she had accepted his behavior, the mask had slipped further.
Last week, Richard invited his gaming friends over for a guys’ night without telling Lisa until they were already at the door. She had just gotten home from work and was lying down because her back was spasming. He actually came into the bedroom and told her she should make herself useful and order them some pizzas.
When she said she was in pain, he sighed dramatically and said, “Being pregnant isn’t a disability. Women have been doing it forever.” Then he added that his mom had worked until the day before she had him.
That was a lie. Lisa had checked with his mom on a casual phone call, and she had actually had complications that required bed rest for the last month of her pregnancy.
The guys were right there in the living room, hearing everything. She caught one of them looking uncomfortable, but nobody said anything.
Lisa ended up ordering the pizzas from bed and paying for them with her own money. When they arrived, Richard yelled for her to get the door because they were in the middle of a match.
She had to haul herself up, walk past all of them in her pajamas, pay the delivery person, and set out plates and napkins while they ignored her.
After they left around 2:00 a.m., leaving empty beer cans and pizza boxes everywhere, Richard came to bed and tried to initiate s*x.
When she said she was exhausted, he said, “Come on, it’s not like you need to do anything. Just lie there like you usually do.”
Lisa went to the bathroom and silently cried, reminding herself she only had to endure this for a little while longer.
Her plan was to move out next weekend when Richard went to his parents’ place for his dad’s birthday. He would be gone overnight, which would give her a full 24 hours to execute everything with the help of her sister, two close friends, and, surprisingly, Richard’s younger brother, James.
James had witnessed one of Richard’s outbursts last month and had secretly contacted her afterward to offer help.
Her lawyer had already prepared all the divorce papers. She would freeze their joint account, take what was rightfully hers, leave the papers with a detailed note explaining exactly why she was leaving, and be gone before he returned.
Lisa wasn’t going to lie—she was terrified. She woke up in the middle of the night with her heart racing, wondering if she could really do this.
But then she would feel her daughter kick, and she knew she had to.
She refused to raise her child in a home where her mother was disrespected daily. She refused to let her think this was what love looked like.
In a strange way, she was grateful for that horrible moment with the groceries. Without Richard’s mask completely dropping, she might have continued making excuses for his behavior for years.
Sometimes she wondered what would have happened if she had met the real Richard from the beginning instead of the charming theater guy who had swept her off her feet.
The red flags were always there. She just hadn’t wanted to see them because she had been too busy being in love.
Her doctor had said her blood pressure was too high, likely from stress, so she needed to take it easy this final month.
The irony wasn’t lost on her that planning to leave Richard was stressful in the short term but absolutely necessary for her long-term health and well-being.
For those who had suggested therapy in her last post, she had started seeing someone virtually who specialized in relationship trauma and pregnancy.
It had been incredibly helpful to have validation that she wasn’t overreacting or being hormonal.
This was real emotional abuse. And she deserved better.
Lisa scroll through her phone while waiting for the doctor at her appointment
Then, just as she was about to put her phone away, Richard texted.
“What’s for dinner tonight?”
Lisa stared at the message in disbelief.
She was literally at a doctor’s appointment for their baby—an appointment Richard had chosen not to attend because he had a “really important” band practice.
Translation: jamming in his friend’s garage for hours while drinking beer.
Yet somehow, she was still expected to provide dinner.
Lisa had been picking her battles to avoid suspicion, so she would probably grab takeout on the way home.
Four more days until he left for his parents’ place.
Four more days of pretending.
She could do this.
Oh, and the doctor had said their baby girl was measuring perfectly and had a strong heartbeat.
Not that Richard had asked.
She was already doing gymnastics in there. Lisa thought maybe she knew they were about to start a better life.
Yesterday, while Richard was gaming—shocker—Lisa had secretly ordered the cutest crib for her new place.
It was being delivered to Janet’s house next week.
She had never bought something so expensive without overthinking it, but it had felt so good to make a decision entirely for herself and her daughter.
This morning, as she was getting ready for work, she caught a glimpse of herself in the mirror.
She actually smiled.
Not because she looked particularly good—let’s be real, she was eight months pregnant and exhausted.
But because she recognized herself again.
That spark in her eyes that had disappeared years ago was starting to come back.
Last night, she had rehearsed what she was going to write in her note to Richard.
It had felt so validating to put all of his behavior into words.
No more making excuses.
No more minimizing.
Just the plain truth about who he was and why she was leaving.
Lisa was still scared about doing this alone.
Single motherhood hadn’t been in her life plan.
But staying with Richard would cost her self-respect—and eventually, her sanity.
And what kind of mother could she be then?
Four more days.
Just four more days of this double life.
Then—freedom.
It's done. Lisa is out.
She sits in her new apartment, surrounded by boxes and a partially assembled crib. Despite the chaos, she has never felt more at peace.
Here’s how it all went down.
As planned, Richard left yesterday morning for his dad’s birthday weekend at his parents’ place, about three hours away. He was actually in a good mood for once—probably because he was escaping pregnant-wife duty for a full weekend. He kissed Lisa goodbye, told her not to do anything crazy while he was gone, and said he’d be back Sunday evening.
The moment his car pulled away, Operation Exodus began.
Her sister, Janet, arrived with her SUV ten minutes later, followed by her friend, Tracy, with a small moving truck she borrowed from work. Richard’s younger brother, James, showed up shortly after, looking nervous but determined.
They had exactly thirty-two hours to move her out completely.
Looking around the apartment that morning was surreal. She had lived there for five years, slowly losing pieces of herself while pretending everything was fine.
They worked quickly, following the inventory list she had created over the past few weeks. First, they packed her personal items and clothes Richard wouldn’t immediately notice were missing. Then, baby items she had purchased herself. After that, furniture that was clearly hers from before their relationship.
James was amazing, handling all the heavy lifting despite her protests that he shouldn’t be helping her leave his brother. At one point, he paused while carrying out her dresser and said, “Richard’s my brother, but what he’s doing to you is wrong. My mom raised us better than this.”
It nearly made Lisa cry right there in the hallway.
The most satisfying moment was disconnecting Richard’s precious gaming PC—the one he had fraudulently bought using a credit card in her name. She carefully packed it in its original box while James watched awkwardly. She could tell he was torn between family loyalty and doing what was right.
She told him he didn’t have to help with this part, but he just shook his head and carried the box to the truck, muttering something about Richard finally facing consequences.
By 7:00 p.m., most of her belongings were out.
They ordered pizza—seems to be a theme in her life lately—but this time, it was a celebration meal with people who actually cared about her. They sat on the floor of her new apartment, eating directly from the box, laughing with exhaustion and relief.
This morning, they went back for the final phase.
Lisa deep-cleaned the apartment—not for Richard, but because she didn’t want to give him anything else to complain about. She packed her last few items and prepared what she was leaving behind.
On the kitchen counter, she left the divorce papers—filed but not yet served. A folder with evidence of his financial fraud. Documentation showing the gaming PC was purchased with a fraudulent card in her name. A USB drive with recordings of his verbal abuse.
And a note that simply said:
"Find someone better from your couch. I already have."
She didn’t take everything.
She left most of the furniture they had bought together, though she took photos of everything in case he tried to claim she had taken things she hadn’t. She wasn’t interested in pettiness—she just wanted out with what was rightfully hers.
The hardest part was making it all work at eight and a half months pregnant. Her back was screaming by the end of the first day, and this morning, she woke up with her hands so swollen she could barely grip anything.
But adrenaline is a powerful thing.
Knowing she was finally breaking free kept her going when she wanted to collapse.
She called Richard’s cell phone once she was safely in her new place. No answer, as expected. She left a voicemail telling him not to bother coming to her sister’s place looking for her—she wasn’t there. She told him he would find everything he needed to know on the kitchen counter. Then, she sent a text with the same information, blocked his number, and emailed his parents, letting them know she and Richard were separating and why—so he couldn’t spin a narrative making her the villain.
Within an hour, her phone was blowing up with calls from numbers she didn’t recognize. Clearly, Richard was using his friends’ phones to try to reach her. She didn’t answer.
Eventually, his mother called Janet. They had always been close. Janet simply confirmed that Lisa was safe and that Richard had treated her terribly throughout the pregnancy. His mom actually broke down crying and apologized for her son’s behavior. It wasn’t expected, but it was oddly healing.
According to James, who is keeping her updated, Richard came home early after getting her message.
He apparently went ballistic when he found the empty apartment and divorce papers. He called everyone they knew, trying to find her, alternating between rage, confusion, and suddenly claiming he wanted to fix things.
Several of Richard’s friends have actually reached out to express support for Lisa.
Turns out, they weren’t all laughing along with his cruelty. Many had been uncomfortable but didn’t speak up. One even confessed they had a guys’ talk with him about his behavior toward Lisa months ago, but he dismissed them as being "whipped" by their wives.
Another said he had stopped inviting them to couple events because he couldn’t stand watching how Richard treated her.
Lisa wishes they had said something to her directly, but she understands why they didn’t.
It’s still comforting to know not everyone thought his behavior was acceptable.
As for Lisa—she is exhausted but relieved.
Lisa’s new apartment was small but bright, with a park nearby and a little balcony where she had already set up a chair for her morning coffee. The hospital where she worked was only a ten-minute drive away. She had changed her email addresses, created new social media accounts, and set up mail forwarding. Her workplace knew about her situation and had been incredibly supportive.
The baby was due in just over three weeks, though her doctor suspected she might come a little early based on Lisa’s last appointment. She felt both terrified and excited to meet her. She had never imagined she would be doing this alone, but she would rather be a single mother than raise her daughter in a toxic household.
Lisa knew the hard part wasn’t over. The divorce would likely get ugly. Richard wasn’t the type to accept defeat gracefully, and she was prepared for him to fight her on everything out of spite. But her lawyer was confident, especially with all the documentation Lisa had gathered.
As for Richard’s parental rights, yes, he would legally have them unless he chose to terminate them, which Lisa doubted. Her lawyer was helping her prepare for co-parenting with clear boundaries. She was realistic—he would probably be an inconsistent father at best. But she was ready to provide stability on her end.
She was also continuing therapy to process everything. She refused to carry this trauma into her daughter’s life or any future relationships.
To everyone who had supported her through her previous posts, Lisa was deeply grateful. Their encouragement and advice had helped her find the courage to leave when she was wavering. She was still scared about the future, but for the first time in years, she also felt hopeful.
Richard had just sent an email since she had blocked his number. He said he was coming to Janet’s place tonight to talk and that Lisa was making a huge mistake. She had already alerted Janet, who informed him that Lisa wasn’t there and that if he showed up, she would call the police for trespassing. Lisa also documented this in case she needed to file for a protective order.
Richard showed up at Janet’s place at 11:00 p.m. despite being told Lisa wasn’t there. Janet didn’t answer the door, but her neighbor recorded him yelling and pounding on it for nearly ten minutes before leaving. He also left all of their wedding photos on her front porch with a note saying, “I threw away everything we built.”
The irony of him suddenly caring about their marriage wasn’t lost on Lisa.
This morning, he emailed again. This time, his tone had completely shifted. He apologized, saying he hadn’t realized how his behavior affected her. He promised to change, go to therapy, and be a better father.
The old Lisa might have wavered.
The new Lisa saw it for what it was—a manipulation tactic. He had lost control, and now he was scrambling to get it back. His apology was all about him—how he felt, what he wanted, how hard this was for him. Not once did he acknowledge the specific ways he had hurt her or how his behavior might affect their child.
She didn’t respond. Her lawyer had advised her against any direct communication that wasn’t through legal channels at this point.
Lisa spent the rest of the day setting up the nursery with Janet and trying to rest as much as possible. The baby was extra active, as if she knew they were finally somewhere safe.
TikTok kept showing her videos titled “Signs He’s Actually in Love With You,” and all she could do was laugh.
She had spent five years confusing control for care and convenience for love.
Never again.
Final update
It had been about ten months since Lisa’s first post, and so much had changed that she wanted to give everyone a final update.
First and most importantly—her daughter, Sophia, was now six months old. Healthy, happy, and absolutely the light of Lisa’s life.
She had Lisa’s eyes, Richard’s nose (unfortunately), and a personality that was entirely her own.
Sophia had started sitting up unassisted last week and was currently obsessed with a stuffed sloth that Janet had bought her. Her favorite thing was when Lisa sang to her while dancing around the kitchen—which Lisa did often because Sophia’s giggle was the best sound in the universe.
The birth had been intense.
Lisa had gone into labor three weeks early—just five days after moving into her new apartment. Janet had been her birthing partner, and she had been amazing. After nineteen hours of labor—including three hours of pushing—Sophia arrived at 6:22 a.m., screaming her little head off.
The moment they placed her on Lisa’s chest, she knew that every difficult decision she had made had been absolutely worth it.
She had not informed Richard when she went into labor. Her lawyer had advised her that she wasn’t obligated to, and after his erratic behavior following her departure, she hadn’t wanted to add any unnecessary stress to an already overwhelming situation.
She notified him of Sophia’s birth the day after—via email. She attached a formal photo of Sophia, not one with herself in it, along with basic information about their daughter’s health and birth details.
His response had been a complete mess.
First, he was angry that she hadn’t called him.
Then, he demanded to see his daughter immediately.
Then, he accused Lisa of using Sophia as a pawn.
Her lawyer handled all communication from that point on, explaining that given his recent behavior, all visitation would be established through the courts.
Now, here was something Lisa had never shared before.
Possibly her pettiest—but most satisfying—moment in this entire saga.
Remember how, during her pregnancy, Richard had told her she was getting disgusting to look at? How he had said she needed to lose the baby weight fast?
Well, when Sophia was about three months old, and Lisa was finally starting to feel like herself again…
Lisa did something kind of epic.
During the divorce proceedings, they discovered that Richard had been hiding money in a separate account. Her lawyer fought hard, and she was awarded a significant portion of those funds since they were technically marital assets. Instead of just putting it all into savings like a responsible adult, she decided that she and Sophia deserved a break.
She booked them a five-day trip to a beachfront resort in Florida. Her sister, Janet, came along to help with Sophia, and for the first time in forever, Lisa actually relaxed.
On their third day there, she was sitting by the pool while Sophia napped in her stroller under an umbrella. She was wearing her first bikini since before pregnancy. Her body looked different—stretch marks, a C-section scar, softer in places—but she felt proud of what it had accomplished.
Lisa asked Janet to take a photo of her in her swimsuit, looking out at the ocean. She looked happy, confident, and yes, already a bit slimmer than she had been while pregnant. Duh.
She sent that photo directly to Richard with just one caption: "Already slimming down. Don't worry."
Then, she blocked him again before he could respond.
Satisfying.
No one could understand that moment of reclaiming her body, her confidence, and yes, some of his hidden money. It felt like the final piece of breaking free from his control.
Lisa never heard what his reaction was, but according to James, Richard was livid when he received it.
The divorce proceedings continued to be exactly as difficult as she expected. Richard contested everything possible—initially demanding full custody despite having shown zero interest in baby preparations during her pregnancy. Then, he wanted their entire apartment’s contents, despite leaving the furniture behind when she moved out. He even tried to claim her car, which she had owned before they even met.
His tune changed dramatically when her lawyer presented evidence of his financial fraud and verbal abuse. Suddenly, he was willing to negotiate.
They finally settled three months ago.
Lisa had primary physical custody of Sophia. Richard had supervised visitation for four hours every other weekend. Child support was set based on his actual income, which they discovered was higher than he had claimed. He kept his belongings, she kept hers, and they split the minimal joint assets. He was responsible for the fraudulent credit card debt.
Was it a perfect outcome? No.
But it was one she could live with, and it provided stability for Sophia.
Richard had seen Sophia exactly twice since she was born.
The first visit was when she was eight weeks old. He showed up forty minutes late and spent most of the time complaining about the supervised visitation requirement. He also took photos to post on Instagram with captions about being a devoted dad.
The second visit was when she was four months old. He seemed uncomfortable with her fussiness and left early.
He had canceled the last three scheduled visits with increasingly thin excuses.
Part of Lisa was hurt—for Sophia’s sake—but mostly, she was relieved. Each interaction with him was emotionally draining, and his inconsistency would only confuse Sophia as she got older.
She had documented every canceled visit on her lawyer’s advice.
Physically, her body had healed from birth, though it was different than before. She had stretch marks, a C-section scar, and she was about fifteen pounds heavier than her pre-pregnancy weight.
And you know what? She was completely at peace with that.
Financially, she was stable—not rich by any means, but the child support helped, and she had become much better at budgeting now that she wasn’t subsidizing Richard’s music career. She had even started a small savings account for Sophia’s future.
As for Richard?
Last she heard through mutual friends, he was telling everyone that she had postpartum psychosis and had stolen his daughter and his money.
Conveniently, he left out the part where he committed financial fraud and verbally abused his pregnant wife.
His Instagram was full of posts about "fighting for his rights as a father," despite continually canceling his visitation.
Classic idiot.
Sometimes, she thought about that day with the groceries—how, at the time, it felt like the worst moment of her life.
But in reality, it was the moment that saved her.
She just received a text from a number she didn’t recognize.
It was Richard’s mom, checking in on Sophia and asking if she could visit sometime.
Unlike Richard, she had been respectful of Lisa’s boundaries and genuinely seemed to care about her granddaughter.
Lisa was considering allowing supervised visits with her, separate from Richard’s time.
Sophia deserved to know the family members who would love her consistently and respectfully.
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