*When my husband refused to give me his coat on a freezing night—but handed it to his female “best friend” seconds later—I realized my marriage was already dead. That single moment of humiliation snapped something inside me. I played the supportive wife for a month, then exposed his priorities in front of his boss at a major company gala with one perfectly timed shiver. He lost the promotion. I filed for divorce.
He thought it was “over a coat.” But it was over ten years of being treated as second place. I chose myself—and a gorgeous cashmere coat I’ll never have to beg to wear.
