Our Thirtieth Wedding Anniversary is His First Love’s Birthday

“Margot, I’m willing to accept your job offer. I want to leave Richard.”

The man’s cold voice came through the phone. “Have you really thought it through? That’s thirty years of a happy marriage.”

Happy? No. It was a complete lie. The man I loved for thirty years had already registered his marriage with my sister when we were young.

Last night, I had a high fever of 39.8°C. I called Richard and the children more than ten times, but no one answered.

Half-conscious, I used his secondary card to order some fever medicine.