The sun is beginning to set, and it floods our living room with golden rays of light. My favorite time of the day is finally here. James, my husband, is in the kitchen, fixing dinner. Milana, our six-year-old, is making us dinner in her play kitchen, tossing the food in the frying pan ... and it all falls to the floor. Madelyn, our three-year-old, is gently singing to her four baby dolls, covering them with blankets as she puts them to sleep. Mason, seven months, is trying his hardest to stand on his own two feet for more than three seconds before falling on his tushy.

I am basking in the bliss that is the end of what once was a very long tunnel, a tunnel darker than I ever imagined. Now, this light is brighter than I ever thought it could be. As I sit here in my living room, watching my greatest gifts play, smile, and enjoy life, and the room is flooded with the light of the most magnificent sunset, I can't help but think back on all the horrific struggles I faced to get here.

I am Katerina Mayants, and I am sick of telling pretty lies. Here is my true story.

September 2005

I was twenty-two, and it was my first week at my first real job after graduating college. I couldn't fathom sitting in an office all day, so working as a life-insurance agent was my best-case scenario, as I would be out in the field, free to make my own schedule. On my first day at the main office, a really hot guy with turquoise eyes who seemed to enjoy spending time at the gym suggested that our genes, if mixed together, would make for beautiful children. James — the hot guy — was everything I was not looking for in a boyfriend, but somehow, no matter how hard my logical mind tried to talk me out of responding to his flirtations, my body kept tingling with a sensation only felt when a soul is connecting to its mate. We couldn't bear to be apart for more than a few hours, and so James came up with a logical reason for his sleeping in my parents' basement a few times a week — his drive home was an hour and forty-five minutes, and he might fall asleep at the wheel after a long day at work. (Good one, right?) Every night we stayed up talking, and then I went upstairs to my room, and he went downstairs to sleep on the couch. Every day was going to be the day he left to go home, but every day he stayed. On the rare occasions when he did leave, seconds after I heard his car start I would get a text message that read "I miss you. I am addicted to you."

After two months of pretending to be friends but wanting nothing more than to be lovers, we came home from a bar one night, and I said, "You don't have to go to the basement tonight. Come upstairs with me." It was the night that solidified our future together. We began spending nights at his place at least four times a week. Since meeting James, all our conversations about our future and how it could be really empowered me to give my all in sales. We did compete with each other at work, but it was such a driving force for me to see my own true potential. When I was with him, I felt all the forces of love in the world run through my body. I'd only known him for months, but I felt like we'd been together for many lifetimes before this one.

As we would fall asleep, face-to-face in each other's arms, I could feel light permeate my body. I felt so light, so good, as if my soul already knew it was one with the person it had been longing for. When waking up in his embrace after only a few hours of sleep, I felt so rested, so peaceful, and so energized. I'd never felt such a connection with another human being. I remember riding with him down the main road in our town, sitting in the passenger's seat and thinking, This is where I want to be for the rest of my life — us driving together down the road of life, side by side. The town we were driving through was a sleepy, rundown part of New Jersey that wasn't very attractive. But that day, I looked out the window and felt in complete awe of the beauty around me. I saw love in everything that surrounded us. All the angels in the world orchestrated a series of unusual events for us to be united at the perfect time and in the perfect place in our lives. Our conversations were always about our dreams of having a lot of kids and a beautiful house full of joy, laughter, and love. I wanted so badly to have children with James because he had so much to teach a child. We had huge dreams, and our imaginations ran wild with how our life would one day be, as long as were together.

One day my brother and I were walking into a grocery store when I suddenly felt an incredible feeling. I stopped my brother and said, "Oh, my God, Max. I am so in love with James. I swear he is the one I am going to marry. There is no other way." Max was eager to get the food shopping finished and didn't really respond.

Luckily, James felt exactly the same about me. We didn't waste any time; just six months after our initial meeting we moved in to a beautiful townhouse on the water in a sleepy, tiny town on the Jersey Shore. Life was amazing, and we couldn't get enough of each other — until we got enough of each other and learned our differences. Truth is we came from two different worlds. I came from a Russian family and was taught that family is a part of every single decision. My parents and brother wouldn't let me make a move until I ran it by them and got their approval. My family was a part of everything I did. Our get-togethers were loud, and everyone had an opinion.

James, on the other hand, came from an American family. His parents got divorced when he was fifteen, and their involvement in his life was miniscule. It wasn't that they weren't tight, but he was raised to make his own decisions and fend for himself. Their family get-togethers were quiet, and no one really expressed opinions on anything; they just reminisced or talked of football.

When we decided to move in together, James didn't have to ask for permission from anyone, but I had to do a four-hour presentation for my parents on why I was, at age twenty-three, self sufficient enough to live with a guy who almost positively was my future husband.

Still, James and I somehow were able to create our own world, pulling the best of ourselves to merge together. At work, we were known as Bonnie and Clyde. Either I was number one in sales for the week in the agency, or he was. No one could compete with our energy and desire to push ourselves. James pushed himself to the brink and became our top manager's worst nightmare — the nightmare of being replaced by a rookie. We were young, and after getting just a tiny taste of the big bad world of corporate America, we worked harder than ever to make our dreams a reality. I was able to hold on to my position and make money because as a female, I was not seen as much of a threat to upper management. I was more like eye candy than anything else. My fit frame and wavy long hair, combined with a love of beautiful dresses, made me more of a "girly girl" than a life-insurance closing machine.

"Katerina, don't worry if you don't get the sale," my manager said, seeming compassionate. "Your bonus is still enough for you to go shopping!"

Frustrated by management's inability to take me seriously, I worked tirelessly to prove my ability to close more sales than anyone else. The harder we worked, the harder it was to enjoy life. There simply was no time in...