And I was.

But there is a point where gathering information about how little someone respects you becomes its own slow humiliation, and I had been sitting at that point for weeks, telling myself I was above it, when the truth was that some part of me had simply not yet decided I was worth defending.

The yacht was where that changed.

Chapter 3 — What They Never Asked

Here is what they never asked, in eight months.

They never asked what I did for a living — not once, not really; Callum had told them I was “in finance, sort of,” and waved a hand, and that had been the end of their curiosity.

They never asked the name of the firm whose card was in my bag.

They never asked why, when Callum’s father complained one evening about his lender tightening terms on some holding company, the girlfriend at the end of the table went very quiet and very still.