Treat Me Like A Dog, My Bride Will Never Be Her

Halfway through the collaboration procedures, Giselle Bentley—my “iron-willed” childhood sweetheart—sent me a photo of her attempted suicide by slamming her head into a block of tofu.

She didn’t say a word. Just left.

Left me and ran off with that so-called childhood friendship of hers to get a marriage certificate and fly abroad for their honeymoon.

That very night, her new husband updated his social media feed—photo after photo littered with used condoms.

Then Giselle followed up with a message.