There is a saying that, "the road to hell is paved with good intentions." I believe it's true. I have always tried to do what is right. I have always lived by the Golden Rule: treat people how you want to be treated. Those are my words to live by, so I have tried my best to live that way.

So why is living a good life so fucking hard? I have never messed anyone over; I never say a mean word to anyone. If they're wrong, I present the facts to them in a pleasant way. When I'm wrong, I admit I'm wrong. In other words, when I'm presented with a problem I take the high road.

I was just living my life, oblivious to any warning signs, when it happened; it was a life changing event.

I had just came home from a two day conference in Texas when I was blindsided by my wife. Casey (the aforementioned 'wife') and our kids were sitting around the kitchen table. They were laughing and joking around.

When I asked, "What's so funny?" the mood changed.

Casey didn't ask, she told me: "Billy, why don't you take a seat."

I sat down and she waved a set of papers around in my face.

"Billy, take these and read them. I'm not asking for anything but the house. There are also adoption paper in there. I want Jeff to adopt the kids. I know you'll want the best for them, so just sign it and we'll move on," Casey informed me, cool as a cucumber.

My wife of twelve years had just presented me with the paperwork for a divorce, and adoption forms for my three kids!

My son Devin looked at me with this little smirk on his face. Devin was ten years old. Joy, my daughter, didn't even bother to look at me. She was nine and was too busy listening to her Ipod to feel anything about losing her father. Patrick, my seven-year-old, was the only one who had anything to say.

"Daddy, Jeff has a big house and we like him," Patrick explained, as if that would somehow make everything 'all better.'

I just sat there looking at Casey and the kids as if they were fucking crazy. Maybe it's PMS or early menopause, I thought. Maybe this bitch is bipolar. Maybe she's high or drunk? Nah — I don't smell any alcohol on her breath. So where is this divorce shit coming from?

Casey finally dropped the papers on the counter, and handed me a check for half of the money in our bank accounts.

"Kids, take your dad's bags to his truck," demanded Casey.

Un-fucking-believable! They had packed my bags before I got home and then laid in wait before they moved in for the kill.

"Casey, do you think I'm going someplace?" I asked with a slightly menacing tone.

"You're moving out Bill, haven't you been listening?" replied Casey.

"Casey, this is my family's house. My parents told me I could live here long before we got married. I don't recall your name being on anything tied to this house. I don't know what has happened to make you want a divorce, but you're never going to take my parent's house. You can leave, but I'm staying in this house!" I shouted.

Casey rolled her eye's and realizing that she couldn't win that one, changed her orders and yelled at the kids to pack their bags. They would have to change their plans and go to Jeff's house.

"Casey, who in the fuck is Jeff?" I finally had the chance to ask.

"Billy, you're a fucking moron; Jeff is the man who has been fucking the shit out of me while your dumb ass is at work," said Casey. Casey wasn't guilty or remorseful; she showed nothing but disrespect and contempt for me. I looked at my kids for their support. My daughter just told her brothers to hurry up.

"Dad," said my daughter, "Jeff can give us a better life. Besides Mom loves him and so do we." My sons nodded their heads in agreement. I stood up and walked to the door and opened it. They all headed towards Casey's car.

"Casey, don't fucking touch that car. I pay for it and it's in my name. Fuck you and your brats; call your asshole and tell him to pick all you sorry fuckers up."

Casey and the kids looked back at me and all of them — the kids as well as Casey — flipped me the bird.

I was beyond pissed; I had worked my ass off for this family and they dump me for some asshole with money? I did what any normal man would do, I got stinking drunk. I ended up passed out face down on the laundry room floor.

For the first time in my life, I hated somebody. I hated this 'Jeff' guy with a passion. But more than him, I hated my family. I realized that it wasn't all him; my so-called family had chosen to betray me.

Once I had sobered up the next morning, I cleaned myself up and went online and found a lawyer. I made a appointment for the next day at noon.

They love him so much, I figured, I'll give them what they asked for. My attorney looked over the agreement and told me to sign it before Casey changed her mind. I signed it and my lawyer sent it back. Casey didn't even ask for child support.

In the blink of an eye, with the stroke of a pen, I no longer had a wife or kids. My family threw me away like some day-old bread. So much for staying together until the kids leave or dreams of growing old together.

Six months later the divorce became final.

Everything changes with time and so did I. I threw myself into my work. I went back to college and got my Masters degree, then a PhD. I was now Dr. William Capps, Ph.D, CPA.

I know most people find accounting to be boring but then again, so was my life. Somehow accounting was just my style.

I decided to open up my own office. It was a boutique operation that provided personalized attention to high-net-worth clients. My client base started to grow by word-of-mouth. By the end of my second year in practice, I was building a very nice nest egg.

I also met a nice woman named Pattie. Pattie was everything I looked for in a woman. She was a hard worker, liked the same things I did, and was a home body. Pattie was a little taller than Casey, but she had curves in all the right places.

By the end of the fourth year, my firm had grown to the point where we needed more space. Rather than continuing to rent space from someone else, I bought a five story office building.

Pattie and I liked our new building so much, we got married on the fourth floor! It was a small yet festive event. I must have enjoyed myself a little too much because a few months later Pattie turned up pregnant. I would have loved a little more 'alone' time with my wife, but you have to roll with the punches. My life had really been looking up over the last six or so years.

Needless to say, it was a surprise — no, a shock — when I was served with child support papers. Casey was asking for $3,000.00 a month and $432,000 in back child support. I started laughing; I hadn't seen or heard from them in seven years, and the first thing they want is money.

I gave the papers to my attorney. He looked at them, and when he finished laughing, he picked up the phone and called Casey's attorney.

Casey, it seems, was broke and alone; she had heard through the grapevine that I had become a very successful (read: financially well off) business owner. To her great disappointment, she had also found out that I had remarried, and that my wife and I had a child and another on the way.