He Let Me Go—Now He’ll Watch Me Belong to Another

“Tell my father—if he wants to make up for twenty years of pretending I didn’t exist, he should pick me up in a week. I’m divorcing my husband. Draft the papers; I’ll make sure he signs them.”

I hung up before the lawyer could respond. Pulling up my hospital gown sleeve, I stared at the angry scar cutting across my forearm.

Three days ago, Bianca—my best friend and my husband’s mistress—set the fire. And instead of saving me and our baby, he chose her.

“I don’t care if she’s pregnant. Just save Bianca. I don’t care about the other one,” he had said.