So, we ignore the voice, ignore the feeling in our gut that grows stronger every day, and we pretend that life is so much longer than it is and that we’ll get more chances for better days. And that was what I’d done with my marriage for so long. If I was back in the real world, it was what I’d continue to do. But here, on the island with nothing to muddle my head, only silence and my thoughts, I’d been forced to reckon with what I’d known for so long. My husband didn’t love me. Not like he should. He tolerated me, sure. Took care of me. But some days I felt like little more than something to
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