His Regret, My Forgotten Ten Years

My ten-year marriage to Jordan was over. I went back to our old college campus to dig up the time capsule we buried, ready to erase every memory of the man who broke me.

But inside, an old Nokia phone suddenly rang. The voice on the other end was bright, hopeful, and unmistakably my own from ten years ago.

"Are we married to Jordan? Are we happy?" she chirped.

I had to tell her the brutal truth. "We're getting divorced."

I told her how he cheated with his assistant, Bristol. I told her how, in the car crash that cost us our baby, his first instinct was to shield her, not his pregnant wife.