Three days after our wedding, my husband turned violent over a late meal—so I looked him in the eye and made it clear he’d just made the biggest mistake of his life

the state. My schedule was packed, leaving no space for regret.

One evening, my phone rang from an unknown number.

“Lorelei? It’s Gregory,” a tired voice said.

He told me he had left his engineering job and was now working manual labor far outside the city, trying to distance himself from his past.

“I’ve been sick, alone in a motel,” he admitted. “And continue reading …