Junia had spent his whole childhood cultivating his insecurity — comparing him unfavorably to other children, correcting him in front of company, teaching him that he was not quite enough and that only she truly understood him.

She had built the wound.

And when Marlowe unknowingly pressed on it simply by being competent, Junia was always right there to whisper that Marlowe was the problem, that a real man wouldn’t stand for a wife who outshone him, that his discomfort was righteous rather than shameful.

A more secure man would have been proud of Marlowe.

Desmond was jealous of her, and his jealousy was the unlocked door, and his mother walked through it whenever she pleased.

Chapter 3 — A Decent Wife