Steal My Man Not My Money

I never made a scene about Lucas Dickerson's infidelity.

On our wedding night, when I walked in on that unbearable scene, my heart didn't break—it was sawed apart by a dull blade, the pain radiating in dense, rhythmic waves.

Yet I remained silent. I still brought him warm water to soak his feet. The next morning, I prepared breakfast as I always did.

From that day on, I applied to work at the Dickerson Group. Guilt made him agree.

Over the next three years, the women around him rotated like a revolving door.