Chapter 7: Blame and Betrayal

His words, every one, were like poisoned blades, each stabbing deeper. I wanted to scream that I’d turned down New York job offers for him, endured his mother’s contempt, molded myself into the perfect Harrison wife.

He was the one who said he loved my bright, free-spirited nature most. At our rehearsal dinner, he toasted how I lit up every room, how my independence made him want to be better.

He was the one who said I didn’t need to change for anyone. “Stay exactly as you are,” he’d whispered on our wedding night. “Promise you’ll never change.”

He was the one who spoiled me into who I am. Every time I tried to be softer, more dependent, he’d laugh and say he didn’t marry me to watch me playact.

How did all of this suddenly become my fault? Become his excuse for cheating? The mental gymnastics were Olympic-level.