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I woke up in a hospital bed three days after the car accident, expecting my husband to ask whether I was hurting, scared, or even alive. Instead, Gerald pressed divorce papers into my hands and told me he needed a wife, not a burden. Three weeks later, I gave him one final gift that completely shattered him.
Sometimes I still hear his voice: “I’ve filed for divorce.” Those were the very first words he said after I opened my eyes.
I had been awake less than two minutes. My throat burned with dryness, my legs were suspended in traction, and bandages wrapped around my head. Gerald stood at the foot of the bed beside a lawyer, placed a pen into my hand, and spoke as casually as though he were discussing dinner plans.
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