My Husband Planned a Cancun Trip With His Mom and Sister — On My Money — and Sent Me to Dig Potatoes. Then His Cards Stopped Working

Hope had kept me paralyzed for fourteen years.

Its absence, that afternoon, was the most useful feeling I have ever had.

Chapter 7 — To Each Their Own Rest

On Sunday evening, Jason zipped his suitcase shut, kissed the children goodbye, and chuckled to himself as he carried his bag toward the door.

“You with your shovel and your potatoes,” he said, grinning at me, “and me with my margaritas by the ocean.

To each their own version of rest, right?”