After my wife was sexually assaulted by her superior, she became averse to any physical contact with me, and I chose to divorce

Late that night, my wife stumbled home, disheveled.

Her stockings were shredded, her skirt barely clung to her waist, and her skin was a canvas of angry red marks.

The moment she walked through the door, she rushed into the bathroom, desperate to scrub away the marks on her body.

She scrubbed herself raw.

I wanted to take her to the police.

But after countless washes, there was no bodily fluid evidence left on her. The police ultimately refused to open a case, citing insufficient evidence.

Rage consumed me. I stormed into her office and beat that bastard boss within an inch of his life.