That was Ethan’s weakness.
Approval.
The two of them spent lunch planning my future as if I weren’t sitting there.
Evelyn would “manage” the household finances. Ethan would review my spending habits. I would stop consulting because “wives with proper families don’t chase careers.”
Later, when children came, Evelyn planned to raise them “correctly.”
I smiled through all of it.
Every word was being recorded by the black phone hidden beneath the sideboard.
Every insult.
Every threat.
Every scheme.
Then Evelyn made her mistake.
“I told you she’d fold,” she said to Ethan. “Women like her always do. Pretty girls with no real family influence.”
Ethan laughed. “She had some savings when we married, but nothing impressive.”
I looked at him carefully. “Is that what you think?”
His smile faded slightly. “Don’t start.”
Evelyn narrowed her eyes. “What does that mean?”
I dabbed my lips with a napkin. “Nothing.”
