The Christmas Visit I Waited Seven Years for Ended My Marriage
On the seventh Christmas of our marriage, my husband, Alan Seaton, who worked in France, finally agreed to let me visit him. That was when I learned he wasn't renting some basement apartment at all. He had bought a spacious three-bedroom apartment.
His mother, Maria Seaton, had the primary bedroom. He slept in the second, and the third had been turned into a pink princess room for his mother's goddaughter, Daisy.
Even Daisy's dog had a climate-controlled kennel on the balcony.
When he caught me staring at the kennel, Alan laughed and patted Daisy on the head.
"You treat that dog better than your own mother. You insisted he couldn't suffer, so you even had radiant floor heating installed for