Endless salty tears rolled down my cheeks as I replayed the evening’s events over and over in my mind as if on a loop. After providing just enough detail for me to feel as though I’d been hit by a freight train, my husband apologized for his behavior and asked for my forgiveness. And I couldn’t—wouldn’t—forgive him. No one in their right mind would expect me to forgive what my husband has done, I reasoned. No one.
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