I watched my husband parade his mistress past the cameras at Fashion Week, his hand on her waist like I was nothing. She laughed, “Your wife could never belong here.” I stepped from behind the investor wall, and the room went silent. “Funny,” I said, handing the designer my signed funding contract, “because I just bought the runway.” My husband’s smile cracked—but I hadn’t canceled his seat yet. Good. He’d watch what came next.
Part 1 My husband brought his mistress to Fashion Week and posed with her beneath a wall of flashing cameras while my…