On The Eve Of My Brother’s Luxurious Wedding, My Millionaire Husband Yelled At Me And Walked Out, Telling Me I Wasn’t Good Enough For Him. To My Surprise, He Showed Up At The Wedding With His Ex, Parading Her Like A Trophy. He Told Me, “You’re Insignificant Compared To Her.” I Smiled And Uttered Three Words, And Then:THE BASTARD WAS CARRIED OUT ON A STRETCHER.

“You look exhausted,” Megan said when we met at our favorite café downtown. “Everything okay in paradise?”

I almost gave my standard everything’s wonderful response, but something in her genuinely concerned expression made me pause. “Can I ask you something honestly?

Do you think I’ve let myself go since I got married?”

She nearly choked on her salad. “What? Amber, you’re gorgeous.

You always have been. Why would you even ask something like that?”

“Richard thinks I’ve gotten too comfortable, that I don’t try to impress him anymore.”

“Richard thinks a lot of things that are completely insane. Remember when he told you that volunteering at the animal shelter was beneath your social status?

Or when he said reading fiction was a waste of intellectual energy?”

I’d forgotten about both of those comments, but now they came rushing back along with dozens of others. The slow, steady erosion of my confidence disguised as helpful suggestions. “He’s not wrong about everything,” I said defensively, still protecting him even as he destroyed me.

“I have gained some weight, and I don’t dress up as much as I used to.”

“Amber, you’ve been married for five years. You’re supposed to be comfortable with each other. That’s called intimacy, not laziness.”

She leaned forward, her expression serious.

“Can I tell you something that might be hard to hear? You’ve changed since you married him and not in good ways. You used to be confident, funny, spontaneous.

You had opinions about everything and weren’t afraid to share them. Now you second guess every word that comes out of your mouth.”

Her words hit harder than Richard’s criticism because they rang true in a way that terrified me. “What am I supposed to do?

He’s my husband. I love him.”

“Does he love you? The real you, not some polished version he’s trying to create?”

I couldn’t answer that question, which was answer enough.

That afternoon, I did something I hadn’t done in years. I went shopping for myself, not for Richard’s approval. I bought a dress that made me feel beautiful, shoes that made me feel confident, and perfume that I loved regardless of whether he would approve.

When I got home, Richard was in his office on a conference call. I could hear him laughing with whoever was on the other end. The warm, genuine laugh that I rarely heard anymore when he was talking to me.

I hung my new dress in the closet and wondered when I’d have the courage to wear it. I didn’t have to wait long to find out. The courage came sooner than expected in the form of the worst betrayal imaginable.

3 days before Michael’s wedding, everything changed. Richard had left his laptop open on the kitchen counter, something he never did because he was paranoid about business security. But there it was, unlocked and displaying his email inbox like a road map to my destruction.

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