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grill with lighter fluid in his hand.
My husband burned the only beautiful dress I had so I wouldn’t be able to attend his promotion gala. Then he looked at me with contempt and called me “an embarrassment.”
My dress was burning in the fire.
“Daniel?! What are you doing?” I screamed, trying to pull it from the flames.
But he shoved me away roughly.
“Don’t bother saving it, Sophie,” he said cruelly. “That’s exactly what you are anyway. Trash.”
