Love Gone: Regret Too Late
Brian Stanton was the definition of a textbook husband in everyone's eyes.
He left work on time every single day, rain or shine, and whenever he traveled for business, his video calls arrived like clockwork to report his whereabouts.
If a dinner involved even a single female colleague, he would call me first to ask for my explicit permission. Even the honey-ginger tea he prepared for me during my periods had never skipped a single month in half a decade.
Yet, the better he treated me, the more it felt like I was serving a life sentence.
Five years ago, his assistant had shown up at our wedding, her heavily pregnant belly protruding as she begged me to let them be together.
Brian had vio