My stepmother had said the marriage would teach me what I was really worth.

She believed the answer could be found in a man’s income, a family name, or the approval of people watching from the courthouse steps.

I learned something else.

I had worth when I walked into that courthouse with trembling hands.

I had worth when I worked late to keep the factory running.

I had worth when I signed my own lease, asked difficult questions, and refused to be traded for a promise of family peace.

Silas did not give me that worth.