Three Years Married, My Husband Waited to Divorce Me for His First Love
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Summary
On the morning of our third wedding anniversary, I sat on the edge of the bed, numbly waiting for the sun to rise.
The screen of my phone lit up. It was my husband, Betts. Pinned at the very top of his iMessage app was a contact saved under the name "Babygirl."
The profile picture belonged to Sienna. A woman pushing thirty, entirely comfortable basking in the cringe-inducing affection of that nickname.
I scrolled through their chat history. The words pierced my chest like needles. "Be careful crossing the street, okay?" "Bought you those strawberry cream lattes you love."
