Chapter 2: The Other Man in Her Life
Shawna had her eye on a college kid who hadn’t even graduated.
She talked about him like he was her latest designer bag—something to show off. I’d seen his Instagram—skinny, sharp jaw, all bravado and no substance.
She bought him a condo in Chicago, filled it with designer goods.
The kind of place you see in magazines—floor-to-ceiling windows, minimalist furniture, not a trace of real life. Shawna liked her gifts big and flashy, the kind you can’t ignore.
But the boy wouldn’t let her kiss or hug him.
He lived in a sprawling penthouse and wore custom clothes worth thousands.
He lifted his chin and declared, "I’m not gonna be anyone’s side piece!"
His words echoed with the kind of pride only a kid with nothing to lose can muster. I almost admired him for it.
Shawna found it all highly entertaining.
She liked a challenge, always did. The harder he pushed back, the more she laughed about it with her friends over cocktails.
Three times now—always a spectacle.
The first time, she flaunted her relationship with me.
Back then, I didn’t even know Sam Choi existed.
I happily put my arm around her, took a ton of photos together.
Seeing her post a whole grid, just us. For a second, I thought she meant it.
But no matter how many times I checked, I couldn’t find that post.
Later, I found out she’d set the post to "Visible to Sam Choi only"—hidden from everyone else.
It stung. She’d curated her life for someone else, while I was just a background extra in my own marriage.
The second time, she fought with me.
Left me alone on the street.
Took pictures of me crying by myself and sent them to Sam Choi.
[See? Nothing I can do. He can’t live without me.]
That hurt more than I wanted to admit.
The third time, she wanted a divorce.
My phone buzzed in my hand. I checked it.
[Really?]
I hesitated, heart pounding.
[You’re serious?]
My breath caught. I stared at the screen.
[Jack Quinn.]
I wiped away my tears and forced a smile.
"Yeah."













