He Married Me to Save Her

The day before Devon and I were scheduled to sign our marriage license at City Hall, I caught him in our bed with my best friend.

I didn’t cry. I dragged him into the master bath, pinned him beneath the icy spray of the showerhead, and scrubbed his skin with industrial disinfectant until he was raw and gasping. Then I took Alyssa’s private photos—the ones she had sent him from the guest bedroom down the hall—and uploaded them to every local forum and social circle we shared.