He covered his exhausted face with both hands and let out a heavy sigh.

“I honestly thought you’d always find a way to forgive me, no matter what I did.”

And there it was—the ugly truth of our entire marriage.

He never loved me as an equal partner; he simply saw me as an open financial door, a safe bank account, and a strong woman who would always clean up his messy mistakes.

“Can you at least give me a professional letter of recommendation?” he finally asked, looking desperate. “Nobody in this industry wants to treat me with respect right now.”

I sat there and vividly remembered my torn clothes scattered across the kitchen floor, his cowardly silences, the deceitful emails, and Cynthia’s mocking laughter.

“No, Douglas, I absolutely will not,” I replied, before standing up.