Left Yale to marry my 'high school sweet-heart.' Was making six figures by age 22, living in a 7,000+ sq ft home, heir to pop-in-law's oil empire. Wife begins scheduling sex after two weeks married. Eighteen months later demands I go to rehab, b/c she and her family don't believe in drinking (my awesome burgundy wine collection). After 3 weeks at rehab, I wanted to go; she insists I stay. She falsely, outrageously, claims abuse and her parents believe her. I leave rehab against family orders. Wife's dad pays my (and his) psychiatrist to lie and say I've been unfaithful. I finally get home, and find out from online cell bill that mrs. perfect princess has been texting and screwing some piece of trash, ski-bum construction worker she met in middle school. I walked away, and never looked back.