Nine Years Later, I’m Done

I brought up divorce the day my wife returned from her ninth annual trip back home, where she’d gone with her ex-boyfriend, posing as a married couple.

She frowned, her tone dripping with impatience. She demanded to know if the power I had at the company, the name on the marriage certificate, the luxury car I drove daily, and the mansion we lived in weren't enough. She claimed that everyone back in her hometown looked down on me, a vocational school graduate from the mountains, and if it weren't for Nathan defending me to her family for nine years, I would have been kicked out long ago.