Then she became afraid that the life she’d built depended on never exposing how different her childhood had been.
“Your mother looks at me like I’m pretending.”
she told Ethan.
“My mother?”
“Margaret.”
He waited.
“She made comments about the invitations.
About introductions.
About how people compare families.”
“And you believed her?”
Lauren looked ashamed.
“I believed she could make me feel like an outsider.”
Ethan’s expression softened.
Then hardened again.