I stare off in space, my chest heaving as if I ran five miles, giddiness and panic pumping through my veins. This is it. The moment I planned months ago is here, and there’s no going back. I’m leaving my husband and taking our kids to live a better life for them—and for me. I reassure myself that I’m strong enough to do this as I circle the small living room of the apartment studio my husband rents on the side to fuck his whore—while I’m cooking and cleaning back at our home. A wave of bitterness sweeps through me. Eighteen years of my life wasted on a lie. I married Richard Baker when I was barely legal. For half a decade, we strived to have kids while barely scraping by. Rich worked three jobs while I kept house—sadly, this is how I was raised.
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