Hild

At our daughter’s three-month milestone party, my husband Garrett’s so-called "best friend" publicly humiliated me. “Hey, Vivian. I heard you're a little loose down there after popping out the kid.” "If it's that bad, you better get some tightening surgery quick—don't wanna mess up your marriage vibes!" Garrett shot her a playful glare and snapped, "Knock it off, Scarlett! You can't just say whatever pops into your head." Then he turned to me with a breezy shrug. "She's just like that—total tomboy. We grew up together; she means no harm." Scarlett shook her half-exposed breast and pouted, "Oh, come on, don't take it personally, Vivian. Honestly, I'm kind of jealous of you." "See, my problem is the opposite. I'm way too tight—hurts like hell during my period. No clue who's gonna get lucky with this later." Then she cut her eyes toward Garrett with a playful wink. " Oh right, you've tried it before, haven't you?" The room went dead silent. Every pair of eyes drifted toward me, barely concealing their curiosity. I smiled, set down my wine glass, and looked at Scarlett with fake concern. "That's strange. I don't remember making it that tight when I did your surgery."

After getting drunk, my husband’s childhood sweetheart drove and ran over my seventy-year-old mother, crushing her into a mangled corpse. She died on the spot. However, my CEO husband, Jason, insisted on signing a settlement on her behalf. “My mother-in-law was committing insurance fraud. She deliberately lay under the tires. She should bear full responsibility.” Not only did he get his childhood sweetheart, Olivia, cleared of all charges, but he also transferred the 10,000,000-dollar insurance payout from my mother to her as emotional damages. “Olivia and I grew up together. I cannot just watch her go to prison and ruin her life. Be reasonable and stop making a fuss.” After leaving the police station, Olivia made a post on social media. [Jason standing up for me was so amazing. Childhood sweethearts really are forever family!] Jason liked her post right in front of me. I remained terrifyingly calm. “Jason, let us get a divorce.” He scoffed. “You’re just saying that to make me comfort you, right? Megan, you are 30 years old. Can you stop being childish?” I had brought up divorce countless times, and he never believed I would truly leave. What he did not know was that among the case documents he had just signed, there was a divorce agreement. He had already signed it himself.

On my birthday, my husband of five years accompanied his childhood sweetheart to celebrate her dog's birthday. Avery Simpson published a loving post: [The happiest baby in the world. Mom and Dad will be with you. I hope you're always happy.] Seeing the words "Mom and Dad", I commented a question mark with confusion. The next moment, I found myself blocked. Charles Logan called me and lashed out at me. "Why do you always have to mess things up at the worse possible time? You're worse than a dog. How despicable!" Shortly after, Avery changed her profile picture to one of her and Charles, hands intertwined. When I saw the obvious provocation, I didn't get angry like before. That's because I had already made up my mind to get a divorce.