Azalea

“How dare you!” The words came out of my mouth with a scream. My chest heaved rapidly as I stared at him, watching the last pieces of my pride fall apart at his feet. “How dare you say that to me?”

He was breaking me apart, piece by piece. He was taking away every small bit of happiness I had left in this prison he called our marriage.

“You and I both know I was telling the truth, honey,” he said with a smile that sent a chill down my spine.

“You are ugly. You are worthless. You should be grateful—no, you should feel blessed—that I chose to marry...