Then I opened my laptop, and I canceled a credit card.

It seemed like a simple administrative task.

It was not.

That card represented almost everything that had been wrong with my marriage.

It was a premium account, connected to my personal finances, on which Tessa had been an authorized user for nearly six years.

She used it for designer handbags, luxury hotel suites, spa retreats, extravagant dinners, first-class plane tickets, and jewelry she always described as necessary for maintaining the Vance family’s public image.

Whenever I had questioned a charge, over the years, Julian had the same answer ready.