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I still couldn’t put up with slapping, though. It was, as I told her, a dealbreaker. If I had slapped her, I would have been wrong, too. Who knew ... maybe in a year’s time or something, but maybe not.All that I knew was that I wouldn’t put up with that kind of bullshit. Not now. Not ever. It was a slippery slope. If I tolerated slapping, what would be next? Ever since my wife Jill kicked me out of the house, OUR house, I have been extremely committed to the idea of never permitting or condoning any kind of controlling, psycho, abusive, disrespectful, ungrateful, entitled, bitchy, or possessive behavior from a partner ever again.Notice that I said “wife,” not ex-wife. Yeah, she’s been fighting me on that divorce, which is pretty weird given that she kicked me out. But that’s another story entirely. I certainly wasn’t going to wait around for red tape to go out and live my life as some poor, misguided fools do. As far as I was concerned, the day that she forced me out of my own damn. "It's your mom's." Sarah said. "The wedding dress, it's your mom's. I took it last week, I used the spare key you gave me." She giggled.Shawn wanted to yell, to tell her to stop, but he was too scared of what might happen if he said anything, or didn't go along with all this. Sarah swiftly moved the huge dress over Shawn's arms and smoothed it out over his body; he felt the zipper sealing it to him, and the large bow being tied around his waist. Sarah placed a wedding veil on his wig and messed with his hair until she was satisfied. A pair of white elbow length gloves were slid down his arms."Okay now, flowers." She said.A bouquet of white roses was shoved in Shawn's hands."Alright, it was a fast job, but I think she looks good." Sarah said as she smiled.She snapped a few more photos of Shawn. Then turned to Ethan."Do we have time to show her how he looks?" Sure, but quickly." Ethan replied.Ethan pulled Shawn in front of a full-length mirror. He slowly looked to his reflection. All.
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