No one thanked me. Instead, Willamina announced, loudly enough for her employees to hear, “It’s nice that Joselyn has finally found a use for all that family money besides decorating.”

I laughed with everyone else. By then, joining the laughter had become a method of survival.

Dozens of moments like that accumulated over the years — small, calculated wounds delivered with pleasant smiles and always before enough witnesses to make any reaction from me seem excessive.

Every one of them was followed by Grantham’s particular kind of silence. He never openly supported them; that was how he absolved himself. He simply refused to sacrifice even a small amount of his own comfort to protect mine.

Chapter 4 — Eleven Years of Telling Myself Things

Year after year, I convinced myself our marriage was worth saving. I told myself love required absorbing careless remarks for the sake of family harmony.

I told myself my children deserved grandparents. I reminded myself that I had chosen Grantham over every safer possibility my parents once placed before me, and therefore I owed it to both of us to make that decision succeed.