At our twenty-fifth anniversary, my husband raised his glass and announced he had never loved me. His mistress—my cousin—stood and kissed him while our children stared. I wiped one tear and said, “Then tonight is perfect.” I pressed a button, and the ballroom screen lit up with the financial records he thought I had never found.
My husband ended our twenty-five-year marriage with a champagne toast and a smile so polished it looked rehearsed. Then my cousin stood beside him, kissed his mouth, and waited for me to collapse in front of everyone we loved. The ballroom went silent. Daniel held his glass beneath the crystal chandeliers, looking almost proud of…