My husband took his mistress to the Maldives for our anniversary. I stayed silent, sold the penthouse, and left the country. When they came back, the home he flaunted was gone.
Morning light poured through the towering glass windows of our penthouse on the forty-second floor, bathing the entire space in a warm golden glow. It was 6:10 a.m., and I stood beside an open suitcase, carefully arranging a silk evening dress next to several of my husband’s custom-made designer suits. Today was supposed to be…