No More Morals, No More Worries

Summary

On my twenty-ninth birthday, my husband, who was supposed to be celebrating with me, never showed up.

Instead, his assistant posted on her social media story, with the privacy set so only I could see it. It was a picture of two hands, clasped together, both covered in a thick, creamy foam.

The caption read:

Oops, wrong post. Guess the boss will have to punish me now...

I wasn’t surprised. I just calmly liked the post.

After all, this was the third time he had cheated on me.

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