My husband smiled as he announced he was leaving me for our housekeeper, as if twenty-five years of marriage meant nothing at all.
“You can keep the lake house,” he said casually, while she wore my necklace and whispered, “He belongs to me now.”
I didn’t cry.
I didn’t scream.
I simply smiled—because neither of them knew that the empire he loved to boast about had never truly been his.
