There is no glory in that.

There is no adoring gaze at the end of a normal Tuesday.

And Marcus, I came to understand, did not want to be loved so much as he wanted to be needed spectacularly — and a healthy child and a competent wife could not supply the spectacle.

So he found a household that could.

It was never that Evelyn was more lovable than I was.

It was that her family’s dysfunction gave him a stage, and ours, in its ordinary wholeness, did not.