The discipline that required, the discipline not to confront them, was the hardest part of the entire ordeal, harder than the audit, harder than the divorce, harder even than the break-in.

Because when you discover that your husband and his mother have been using you, framing you, preparing to sacrifice you, every instinct in your body screams to say something, to throw it in their faces, to demand an explanation, to let them know that you know.

The urge to confront is enormous, and it feels like strength, like standing up for yourself, like refusing to be a doormat any longer.

And it is, almost always, a catastrophic mistake.