“Happy Anniversary… Now Let’s Get Divorced?” It was our first wedding anniversary. I wore my favorite dress, did my hair just the way Thomas liked it, and lit the candles on our beautifully set dinner table. Everything was perfect. I had spent two whole weeks planning this night. I even learned how to cook duck à l’orange—tried the recipe twice to make sure it came out just right. I wanted everything to feel magical. After all, Thomas and I had spent our first year of marriage laughing through burnt pancakes

When I Finally Came Home It had been two long years since I left. Two years of college books, frozen dinners, and late nights trying to fall asleep in a room that didn’t carry my mother’s voice. No matter how far I moved, no matter how many dorm rooms I decorated, her memory followed me like a shadow I couldn’t shake. It was always there—quiet, steady, unskippable. Like a song that plays in the background of your life. My mom, Miranda, passed away when I was just fifteen. It was

I gave up my dreams just to keep my husband’s secrets perfectly clean. But when I ran after him to catch him cheating, I found out I wasn’t the only one spying on him. My husband, Kevin, liked things a certain way. The way only I knew how to do. I even made myself a little list once, to keep everything straight. HUBBY’s List🧅 No onions in any sauce, ever.🥩 Steak—medium rare, thick cut only.🌹 Roses in the garden—must bloom all year round.👕 Shirts ironed perfectly, collars stiff.🛏️ Bedsheets—snow-white, hotel