I carried the bowl to the living room and sat beside the window Aunt Madeline used to open whenever rain came through town.

My phone rested on the coffee table.

I had messages from Chloe, a photograph Rose had sent of an old restoration project, and a short update from Samantha confirming that the final property paperwork had been filed.

There was nothing I needed to answer urgently.

For six years, I had believed being a good wife meant keeping the household peaceful even when that peace cost me everything.

I knew better now.