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... the stomach.
"I’d love for you to divorce my son."
For a second I couldn’t breathe. Not from shock but from something more uglier.
I felt cheap. I felt dirty.
I felt like the exact thing people called women like me behind closed doors.
A whore.
A homewrecker.
A... nothing.
My mouth went dry. My chest tightened so hard I thought I was going to choke on air. The shame came fast, burning its way up my throat.
I stared at him, ...
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