For five years, I was married to Angelo Harmon, who treated me like a queen, earning the envy of everyone around us.

But my dream life ended when I discovered he had a second home with a younger woman.

When I confronted him, he brushed it off. "It's just a fling for excitement. You’re still my wife. What's the problem?"

His callousness repulsed me, pushing me to terminate my pregnancy and walk away.

When I got home and opened the door, I saw a fancy box on the table.

Angelo Harmon was sitting on the couch, flipping through a magazine. A week had passed since our blowout fight over his mistress, and he had been absent.

By now, I had stopped obsessing over where he had been or what he had been doing, like some bitter wife. Had he not shown up that day, I might have begun to forget his existence.

He stood up, trying to slip his arms around my waist.

I stepped back, dodging his touch. His embrace, once cherished, now made my stomach churn.

Angelo froze, but he didn't fuss over it. Instead, he picked up the box and handed it to me. "You said your watch broke, so I got you a new one. See if you like it."

I knew this was his attempt to smooth things over.

For five years, whenever we fought, he'd offer small gifts, and I'd let go of my anger, forgiving him. Those heartbreaking nights had always faded when he extended an olive branch.

But now, I was done.

Without even a glance at the box, I brushed past him and headed upstairs.

Angelo sighed, grabbing my arm and pulling me into a tight hug. "Still upset?"

I yanked my arm free, staying silent. My coldness finally got to him.

His brows furrowed, anger creeping into his voice. "It's been a week. Haven't you sorted it out? Stop acting childish."

His tone dripped with blame, as if I were the one being unreasonable.

I looked at the man I loved for five years and smiled bitterly. "So, you stayed away for a week, waiting for me to figure it out. You think I'm overreacting?"

Angelo didn't reply, but his silence spoke volumes.

I closed my eyes, fighting the ache in my chest. "If that's how you see it, let's get a divorce."

He grabbed my wrist, his eyes blazing with unfiltered anger. "I told you, it's just a fling. Once the thrill's gone, I'll pay her off and be done with it. Your place isn't at risk. All these years, I've given you money, attention, and everything else. I'm just keeping a woman on the side to unwind from work. Can't you cut me some slack?"

I couldn't believe he could make such shameless remarks. In his mind, women were toys to be used and discarded.

I struggled to break free, staring at him in disbelief. "How did you become like this? You make me sick!"

The last trace of warmth disappeared from his face.

"This kind of thing is normal for guys like me," he said. "I've been married to you for five years and have only kept one mistress. That's loyal enough. I've never shortchanged you. What's your problem? You know Steve Wilson? He's had mistresses since day one. His wife never complains. Everyone else just looks the other way. Why can't you?"

His twisted logic made me laugh. "Sounds like I'm missing out. Should I find some young studs to keep up with you?"

That set him off. He tightened his grip and yelled, "No way in hell!"

The hypocrisy was staggering.

On the one hand, he could have his side piece and live it up. On the other hand, he expected me to stay loyal and play the perfect wife.

I snorted, "You can't even handle the idea yourself, yet you expect me to accept it? Let's get a divorce. Seeing your face disgusts me."

Angelo narrowed his eyes. "When your dad cheated, he brought his mistress to your mom's doorstep and demanded a divorce. I'd never do that to you. What's so hard to accept? You will always be Mrs. Harmon. Think it over."

He grabbed his coat and stormed out, slamming the door shut.

I stared at the red marks on my wrist, tears finally spilling over.

When I was 18, my dad, the perfect husband in everyone's eyes, cheated. His mistress showed up pregnant, demanding my mom step aside.

My dad, who used to adore my mom, stood by his mistress, looking at my mom with nothing but contempt.

The shock broke her, but she refused to divorce, insisting that as long as she was his wife, the other woman would remain a mistress and her child illegitimate.

My dad and his mistress kept causing scenes, but my mom held her ground.

Our once-happy family was reduced to a laughingstock. That drama dragged on for two years until the court finally settled it.

I stopped believing in love, having witnessed the deepest love turned into hatred.

I held onto that belief until Angelo showed up.

We were each other's first love. He said the day we met in college, my smile stuck with him.

For four years, he chased me. No matter how many girls flirted with him, he only had eyes for me. At first, I brushed him off, but he never gave up.

One night, I was walking back from my part-time job when some thugs cornered me in an alley. I thought I was done for until Angelo appeared, fighting them off like a madman.

Outnumbered, he got beaten badly.

When the police sirens finally scared the thugs away, I looked at his battered form and wavered.

I thought that maybe there were exceptions in this world and that he was one of them.

Now I knew better. I shouldn't have hoped for exceptions.

Back when I told Angelo about my parents, he held me tightly. "I'd never be like your dad. You're the only wife I'll ever have."

In the early years of our marriage, he kept that promise.

He'd take me to business dinners, introducing me to everyone. On work trips, he'd video call to check in.

All the other wives envied me for having such a perfect husband. Yet unbeknownst to me, Angelo had another home out there, keeping a 20-year-old woman as his mistress.

If I hadn't followed him to her apartment after he claimed to be working late, I would still have been in the dark.

But as he put it, I should be grateful that he kept my title and spared me public humiliation.

It wasn't like I wanted that title so badly. In fact, I didn't care for it at all.

"Mrs. Harmon, the baby is developing well. You've been preparing for pregnancy. Are you sure you want to terminate it?" the doctor said seriously.

I stared at the tiny blob on the screen, feeling a lump in my throat. I'd longed for this child, but I couldn't give them a complete family.

I fought back the bitterness and nodded firmly, determined to cut ties with Angelo.

The doctor sighed and scheduled the procedure.

It wasn't as painful as I expected, more like waking from a dream.

The nurse gave me aftercare instructions, and I was about to leave the hospital with my meds when I ran into Angelo and his mistress, Sigrid Garrison.

Angelo saw the meds in my hand, and his face darkened. He stepped forward, grabbing my arm. "You're sick and didn't tell me?"

I looked at Sigrid, who was clinging to him. Her face was full of fake innocence, and I felt a wave of irony.

Men were just greedy. They wanted both the thrill of something new and the good image of a loyal husband. They wanted to stray while keeping their marriage intact.

I was glad that I'd seen his true nature before it ruined my future.

I tried to pull free, weak from the procedure, but he wouldn't let go, playing the concerned husband.

In the struggle, my medical records fell and were scattered across the floor.

Someone in the crowd picked up a sheet and said, "Abortion. Well, she should be resting."

Angelo froze, staring at the speaker. "What did you say?"

Startled, the woman handed him my chart. "She just had an abortion. You know her, right? Call her husband. What kind of man lets his wife go through this alone? Total jerk."