My Wife's Betrayal, My Second Life

years of my life, my talent, my devotion. And

hrough IVF! Aren' t you mad? You spent your

. Our son, the boy I raised, stood with her, holding the empty gas can. A lit match

tuxedo. My hands were young. The date on my phone: ten years ago. It was my wedding night. Olivi

h him right now!" Her words echoed my death in the future. In my past life, I comforted her, promised to ea

ced everything for. Why had I been so blind, so stupid? Why had I devoted my entire

ivia, not as the girl I loved, but the woman who