“Then she told me she had always known our parents underestimated her. After that, she laughed and said, ‘Well, the money belongs to me, and I’m still keeping the husband.’”
Despite everything, a small, painful laugh escaped me.
“Why didn’t either of you tell me?”
“Rosie was afraid you would confront your parents and tear the family apart. She wanted peace. I promised I would stay silent unless she asked me to speak.”
“And tonight she asked you.”
Ben nodded.
“She told me that secrets should not outlive the people they were meant to protect.”
For several seconds, neither of us spoke.
I remembered the way Ben looked at Rosie during their wedding. The flowers on Tuesdays. The endless patience. The private jokes. The home they had built.
None of it had been false.
The contract was real, but so was their love.
“I hated you for about two minutes,” I whispered.
Ben wiped his face.
“I wouldn’t have blamed you if it had been longer.”
