“During a brutal Phoenix heatwave, my husband unplugged our AC and fridge, claiming we were broke and needed to save every penny for our unborn twins. But I discovered he had frozen our joint accounts to fund a lavish lifestyle for his mistress, buying her designer bags and a heavily air-conditioned luxury apartment. When I started bleeding heavily and begged him for twenty dollars for a cab to the hospital, he just laughed. "You're just trying to manipulate me. Drink some hot water and stop being so dramatic." He hung up on me. Dragging my bleeding body down six flights of stairs, I saw him through the glass of a premium birthing center, happily paying for his mistress's care. I lost my twins alone in a public ER, opting for a D&C without anesthesia just to carve the betrayal into my bones. When he came home and saw my blood-soaked clothes, he actually looked relieved when I lied that it was just a heavy period. I didn't scream or cry. I just quietly slipped the signed divorce papers into the lining of his new designer suit, ready to make him pay.”