Standing in a dark Las Vegas hotel room with my ear cupped to the bathroom door, I heard a voice that I had never heard before. This was not the man I married eight years ago.
I was overhearing my husband “chatting with” and making arrangements to meet with a prostitute later that evening.
Immediately fear seemed to strangle me. My body shook uncontrollably at just the glimpse of the depth of darkness my husband was entangled in.
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