When the company finally became successful, everyone congratulated him. Eleanor told people her son had always possessed “an extraordinary business instinct.”

No one mentioned the woman who’d spent six years organizing that instinct. I told myself it didn’t matter. Marriage wasn’t supposed to be a competition for recognition.

When Daniel landed his first major development contract, he bought me a pearl necklace and presented it over dinner. “For believing in me,” he said. I wore it twice.

Most days I’d have preferred he load the dishwasher without being reminded.

Our house became the center of his family’s celebrations because it was larger than Eleanor’s townhouse and because I knew how to host. In the beginning, I enjoyed it.

I liked arranging a beautiful table, the smell of cinnamon and onions filling the kitchen, the moment after everyone arrived when cold coats filled the hallway and conversation warmed every room.