Ethan, my husband, stood under the neon lights of a Las Vegas wedding chapel. Beside him was Rebecca, a woman from his office. I recognized her instantly. She had been inside my home before. She had stood in my kitchen during our housewarming party, eating my food, smiling at me, and telling me how lucky I was. Marriage
Now she stood next to my husband, grinning at the camera.
They were both holding marriage certificates.
For a few seconds, I simply stared. My mind tried to bend the image into something else, something less impossible, something I could survive.
Then the message appeared beneath the photo.
He told me he had just married Rebecca. He admitted he had been sleeping with her for eight months. Then he called me boring and pathetic and told me to enjoy my sad little life. Marriage
I read it once.
Then again.
Then a third time.
I expected tears. I expected screaming. I expected my body to collapse under the weight of it.
