Thanksgiving's Bitter Truth

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ia, CEO of the brewery we built from my savings and

, radiant, carving a turkey at his "family home." His arm was around my wife,

spect your choic

upted. "What the hell were you doing? Every

me. My seven years, my sacrifices, my very identity – all dismissed as I was lab

chest swelled into a

y and the empire we built, all for a manipulative intern she claimed to be "ment

h off to a "conference" with Leo. I grabbed them, drove straight to my lawyer' s o