Betrayal's Scars, A New Beginning

Today was my ninth wedding anniversary, and I lay in a hospital bed, recovering from a hysterectomy.

My husband, Mark, sent a diamond necklace, but instead of him, a young woman' s voice answered his phone.

"This is Emily. Please, don' t do this to Mark."

Her tearful plea implied she had picked out my anniversary gift with him.

He then agreed to a divorce-eagerly, relieved-hanging up before I could speak.

He never showed up at the courthouse.

He promised to meet me. He broke that promise.