On our tenth anniversary, I found my husband in our bed with another woman.
On our tenth anniversary, I pressed my hand against the cool mahogany of our bedroom door, expecting candlelight, the smell of rosemary-roasted chicken, maybe a playful smile and the reveal of a diamond bracelet over dessert. Instead, I found my life shattered across the 800-thread-count Egyptian cotton we’d picked out together in Milan. Adrian—my husband, … Read more