My boyfriend looked me straight in the eye and told me he wasn’t sorry for sleeping with my best friend. She stood beside him wearing my favorite gray cardigan, smiling as though she’d won something, while he showed me a photograph of them kissing on a rooftop. I thought discovering their affair was the cruelest thing that could happen to me, but nine days later, sitting alone in my car with six stitches across my hand, I realized I knew exactly how to make them regret what they’d done.
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