It was the public version of a conversation she had hoped would end our relationship before it began.
“You knew when she made that toast,” I whispered.
Ethan nodded.
“You knew she’d already tried to buy you off.”
“Yes.”
“And you still stood there and smiled?”
“I wasn’t going to give her the satisfaction of watching her ruin our wedding.”
My eyes filled with tears.
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
He looked devastated.
“Because I knew how much you loved her. I thought telling you would force you to choose between your mother and your husband.”
“That wasn’t your decision to make.”
“I know.”
“Five years, Ethan. Five years of believing she had finally accepted you.”
“I know.”
“Every Sunday dinner. Every birthday card. Every time she complimented your business. I thought things were getting better.”
He lowered his eyes.
“I wanted to believe they were.”
“Did you ever think about telling me?”
