I realized my relationship with Bruce had twisted into something grotesque.

He kept having affairs but refused to divorce me, drove me into depression, then played the role of caring husband urging me to get treatment.

My therapist told me to relax and think about happy memories.

Five years ago, when Bruce became a rising business star, he proposed by showering the entire city with money.

All the important people attended our wedding, even my favorite celebrities came to perform.

That day, social media was flooded with news about Bruce and me.

Amid the wave of congratulations, everyone said I'd finally found happiness after hardship, praising Bruce as the perfect man.

"You two really have a twisted fate," said Louis, my old classmate turned therapist - the only one brave enough to say it.

"After all this time, can't you think of other happy memories?"

I shook my head. He didn't understand that marrying my childhood sweetheart was truly my happiest memory, even though everything had changed.

Louis looked at me like a disappointed teacher looking at a struggling student, and scheduled my next appointment.

Bruce was still waiting in the car, sitting in the blazing sun, not bothering to find shade.

On the way home, he bought me a cupcake: "Feeling any better today?"

Lost in thought, I looked at him and said, "You're just like my father."

"Bull****! I'm nothing like that man!"

That ended our conversation.

I knew all too well that Bruce had become everything he once hated.