I smiled and carried the bread toward the table.
“Just looking at my investment.”
Jessi laughed, wiped her hands on a dish towel, and slipped her arm through mine. Around us, her sisters continued talking over one another, teasing, arguing, and stealing food from plates before dinner had officially begun.
Fifteen years earlier, Chloe had walked out of a tiny apartment convinced she was leaving behind a man who had nothing.
She wanted expensive cars, Caribbean vacations, designer clothes, and a husband who could provide the kind of lifestyle she believed proved someone had succeeded. When she looked at me, she saw double shifts, overdue bills, six children, and a future that required sacrifice.
So she chose Daniel.
For years, I sometimes wondered whether her words had contained a little truth. There were nights when my bank balance barely survived until payday, mornings when I went to work after almost no sleep, and months when every dollar already had a destination before it reached my account.
