When he got home, he said he’d been stewing about some slightly belittling thing I’d said to him in front of someone else. He tossed his head like a teenager. What he failed to remember was that I’d said the slightly belittling thing mere moments after he’d stopped flirting with a messily drunk woman while I sat alone and ashamed with Hannah and her new boyfriend. Agreeing to be someone’s wife should be done only if you can’t help yourself, I thought, but of course no one can help herself.
