Neon Lies

In the third year of our marriage, Adrian Jones made me play a game of truth or dare—and when I lost, he told me to take the place of a nightclub hostess and perform a striptease.

"Macie's too timid," he said. "You dance for her."

Laughter erupted around us.

"Adrian's a real sport—letting us watch his wife put on a show!"

"Liliana's got a body to die for. I'm burning up just looking at her."

Drenched in humiliation, surrounded by crude stares and filth, I finally cracked. My voice shook.

"Adrian… I want a divorce."

Before I could say more, a glass of red wine hit me square in the face.

Adrian scoffed, "The Shaw family's already bankrupt. Where exactly do you think you'll go without me?"

However, this time, I meant it. I was done.

I tried to make my escape, but a wall of bodies blocked my path.

"Hey, where do you think you're going? You haven't danced with us! You promised!"

"Yeah, we're all waiting to see it!"

I glanced at Adrian Jones, knowing that without his say-so, there was no way I was getting out of there today.

He lounged on the sofa, with Macie Rogers snuggled against him, and shouted, "Come on, take it off! Or I'll cut off your mom's treatment right now."

The thought of my mom, sick in the hospital, made my hands tremble as I started to unbutton my shirt, exposing a part of my chest.

The crowd's eyes were glued to me, some even whistling mockingly.

Suddenly, a warm jacket landed on my shoulders, enveloping me.

Adrian's eyes blazed with fury as he stared at me down. "Liliana, you've got guts!"

Tears filled my eyes as I met his gaze. "Isn't this what you wanted?"

A flicker of something complicated crossed Adrian's eyes before he shouted, "Get lost!"

I clutched the jacket around me, my head down, and bolted for the door, not seeing the leg someone stuck out to trip me.

I tumbled to the floor, my head smacking against the doorframe. Blood started to flow from a gash on my forehead.

Adrian gave me a bored look and said, "If you're not dead, get out of my sight."

He then turned to Macie and kissed her deeply, as if I were nothing.

My heart shattered. I picked myself up and staggered outside.

The rain came down in sheets, washing over me, trying to cleanse the humiliation that clung to my skin.

Adrian and I were inseparable since we were kids, the kind of friends who shared popsicles and playground adventures. When we turned 18, he spilled his heart out to me, and by 22, I was his wife. It was like living in a dream.

However, our fairy tale crumbled three years ago when the Jones Group, Adrian's family business, hit rock bottom. Accused of leaking secrets, Adrian was hauled off for questioning.

I was desperate to clear his name, but my mother—scared I would get dragged down too—went behind my back. She forced Adrian to sign divorce papers while he was locked up.

When he got out, he came after me, thinking I was just another gold digger. The love he once had twisted into something cruel.

I kept thinking he would cool off, that if I stayed by his side, he would see my true feelings.

However, after three years of nothing but his unfeeling revenge, I knew it was time to let go.

I dialed the number that would set me free.

"I'm ready to walk away from Adrian. Do what you need to do," I said.

Adrian's mom, Fiona Elmore, could barely hide the triumph in her voice. "Give me three days, and you'll be dead and gone."