Divorce papers arrived at 2:14 p.m., and by 3:00 she had destroyed everything i built. i thought i was the villain until i discovered the baby was never mine.

“Your poor wife.”

I smiled without feeling any guilt.

“She’s comfortable. Six-million-dollar brownstone in Lincoln Park. Unlimited credit cards. A nursery bigger than most apartments.” I shrugged. “Trust me, she’s fine.”

Even remembering those words now makes me feel sick.

Because somewhere inside, I truly believed comfort was an acceptable substitute continue reading …