On our third wedding anniversary, I received a video.
In it, my model husband was speaking tenderly to the woman he’d always loved: “I married her only to take the misfortune meant for you.”
I set down the cake I’d prepared for him, wiped away my tears, and smiled without a sound.
So I was nothing but a “medicinal primer.”
But what you don’t know is that poison is often hidden in the primer.
It’s time I rewrote the ending to this deception carried out in the name of love.
