After 999 Divorces, He Broke

Synopsis

Every wedding anniversary, Edward Foster ensured I received a gift I'd never forget. On the night of our tenth anniversary, he paraded into the ballroom with a hostess dressed in risqué lingerie. "Claire, can't you see that our guest feels cold? Take off your dress for her now." Wanting to humiliate me further, he pressed on. "Swap your lingerie with hers, too. She likes them." I clutched my collar and retreated, but he caught the fabric and tore it right down my chest. "Don't put on airs now. You were far from being this prim when your father dropped you off in my bed for money. I still remember how eager you were." The crowd watched, hungry for the spectacle. True to form, I gave them what they wanted and demanded a divorce. Edward simply laughed, then scattered a stack of photos onto the table—they were shots of me, covered in hickeys, curled up on the bed. He said, "Claire, you cry for a divorce every time, but you always end up crawling right back to my side. "Now, what do you think would happen if these photos went viral? Would your vegetative mother still be resting easy in her hospital bed?"