They Called Me a Saint—Then Her Phone Exposed Who I Really Was

office.

My hands started shaking. I scrolled up.

It wasn’t just a fling. It was a whole life. Messages going back a year. “I miss you.” “I feel alive when I’m with you.” “I hate that he treats me like a patient.”

There were photos. Voice notes. Plans for a future that didn’t include me.

Then I saw the messages sent while she was in the hospital—while I continue reading …