On our wedding night, my new husband locked the bedroom door, pulled out a leather whip, and handed me a handwritten list of rules he expected me to obey for the rest of my life. Ten seconds later, he was lying face-down on the floor, begging me to let go while I held the annulment papers he never saw coming.
The click of the bedroom lock was louder than the last note of our wedding song. When Adrian turned around holding a leather whip and a handwritten list titled WIFE’S RULES, I understood that the man I had married three hours earlier had never existed. He smiled as if my silence proved obedience. “Rule one,”…