PART 1
“I just married Melanie, my coworker. You go on with your sad life, Jessica.”
That message arrived at 2:47 a.m. while I was asleep on the sofa in my living room in Boise, with the television playing silently and a heavy blanket pulled up to my chin.
Mark, my husband, was supposedly in Miami for a mandatory company training seminar.
He had promised me he would be home by Thursday afternoon, insisting it was all tedious work, long meetings, and endless dinners with prospective clients.
I read the text on the screen three distinct times just to be absolutely certain of what I was looking at.
“We have been together for almost a year now. Today we are finally getting married on the sand. Do not try to make a scene about this. You were always too cold for me anyway.”
