Paige loves her career, even if it means being away from home often. After a business trip, she overhears a cryptic conversation between her husband, Victor, and their four-year-old son, Mason. This moment marks the beginning of her marriage unraveling.
Paige and Victor endured four miscarriages but emerged stronger, or so she thought. When Mason was born, he became their focus. Despite Paige’s demanding job as a clothing brand executive, Victor managed their home life, even changing his work schedule to be more present for Mason.
After a three-day trip, Paige returned home eager to see her family. However, the house was quiet, and she overheard Victor telling Mason not to tell her about something that would make her sad. Sensing trouble, she tried to dismiss it but struggled to sleep that night.
On her next business trip, she received a series of photos from Victor featuring Mason with a new toy—and a pair of blue shoes in the background that weren’t hers. Alarmed, she scrolled through more pictures, discovering evidence of another woman in their home.
Returning home, Paige found Mason napping. Upon entering her bedroom, she overheard muffled sounds confirming her fears. When she opened the door, Victor was with another woman, who quickly fled to the bathroom. The confrontation was chaotic, filled with accusations and heartbreak.
Victor tried to shift blame, claiming Paige was never around and needed to consider his feelings. Paige, devastated, realized that her vows had meant something to her, while Victor had betrayed them.
After recounting the ordeal to her family, they encouraged her to have Victor move out. Although he denied the affair, he didn’t contest the divorce, desperately trying to maintain some dignity.
Reflecting on the signs she had ignored, Paige was determined to rebuild her life for herself and Mason. She knew she had to be stronger and smarter moving forward.
This Caribbean Island Is Back From the Brink—and Ready To Share Its Treasures With the World
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The paintings of Italian-born artist Agostino Brunias, who made a profession of depicting the island in subdued, stylized settings that covered up the harsh realities of colonial control, were my first visual introduction to Dominica. However, as soon as I step onto its winding roads, which begin to twist shortly after I arrive, it becomes evident that this region, which is situated in the center of the Lesser Antilles’ curve, is anything but tame. The two-toned leaves of its bois canot trees, which change color from green to white when they sway in the wind, shimmer and bristle with the power of the volcano. It lulls with the erratic sound of its numerous waterfalls, scatters rainbows haphazardly across its breathtaking horizons, and enchants from the depths with its vibrant coral reefs. And it roars come storm season.
The indigenous Kalinago people of Dominica survived invasion by the French and British, who imposed slavery on the Africans who now make up four-fifths of the island’s population and left a linguistic legacy of English and French-based Creole, by mastering the lush tropical rainforest that covers more than 60% of the island. If you visit Trinidad for roti and Jamaica for jerk, you should travel to Dominica for green things like bush rum and flower teas. There are a ton of medicinal herbs in the forest.
The Jungle Bay Dominica resort, located smack dab in the center of the Soufrière jungles, leans into nature instead, maybe realizing the futility of fighting against the earth’s generosity. When I finally get there, the kitchen is closed. Joanne Hilaire, the operations manager, tells me that they never let guests go hungry, though, so I can feel the warmth of Dominica’s welcome. The cook is preparing an excellently stewed dish of beans with taro, rice, and plantain for our late dinner, off the menu, while I have a refreshing ginger-lime cocktail that is a local favorite. When I wake up the following morning, I find that my villa’s doors open onto a private veranda that faces southwest toward Soufrière Bay, where the Caribbean Sea and the Atlantic Ocean converge. I let the light wake me for the remainder of my stay by leaving my blinds open.
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