Chapter 1

When Peter Hayes started with nothing, I endured the hard days with him. We slept under overpasses.

When he rose to glory, he proposed to me at twenty-two, swearing I would be the only love of his life.

Thirty years into our marriage, I found an insurance policy in the nightstand drawer.

The beneficiaries were his first love, Emily Lane, and her child.

I confronted him. He kissed my cheek.

"Emily and I are old friends. Her husband died young.

"This will give them some security."

I pulled out the old note he'd written, promising me a wedding gift.

"So she's got her guarantee. Where's mine?" I asked.

*****

Peter glanced at it, and his expression suddenly turned flustered.

Then he forced a smile, walked over, and put his arm around my shoulders, leaning down to kiss my forehead.

"This is what you're worried about? I thought it was something big," he said.

His voice was gentle, coaxing me. "You've stuck by me all these years. I know how much you've done for me. Everyone knows I've got the best wife in the world."

I gave a cold snort and shoved him away with my elbow.

"Get lost. You're still hung up on Emily, aren't you?" I snapped.

Peter frowned and reached out to grab my hand. "Susan Hayes, don't get worked up. Seriously, there's nothing between Emily and me. We're friends.

"Think back, when I was hustling to start my business, who was there for me? Emily lent me six hundred dollars, and she'd been saving up for months to help me out."

"She saved up for months, huh?" I shot back, my eyes burning with tears and my voice trembling. "Peter, what about me? I've been by your side for thirty years.

"I slept under bridges with you, ate leftovers, and sold my blood to scrape together the money for your business.

"I helped you build everything from nothing. Does all the suffering I went through mean nothing to you?"

Peter's face turned grim, and he started avoiding my gaze.

"So you owe her, and I'm supposed to put up with it?" I said.

"Susan, why are you talking like this?" Peter said, sounding annoyed. "Alright, alright, let's not dwell on the past. If you're upset about the insurance policy, I'll buy you another one."

"I don't want the policy," I said.

"Then what do you want?" Peter snapped, his impatience starting to show.

I stared him right in the eyes. "Peter, I bet you've got your will all sorted out too, haven't you?"

Peter's hand started fidgeting with the hem of his shirt without him realizing it.

I caught it, and that confirmed for me he was lying.

After thirty years, I knew that move. He always did it whenever he was hiding something.

"Don't be ridiculous," Peter said, turning his face away. "Why would I make a will? I'm not dying anytime soon."

"Look me in the eye," I demanded.

He kept his face turned away, refusing to meet my gaze.

"Peter, look at me," I pressed.

He jerked his hand away from mine and stepped back twice, his face turning bright red from being caught off guard. "What's the point? Susan, haven't you had enough?"

His voice shot up out of nowhere, and he looked like a cat whose tail had been stepped on, bristling, ready to explode.

"It's an insurance policy. Is it really such a big deal? Have I ever treated you badly all these years? You've got a house, a car, have I ever denied you anything? Ask around, everyone says you're lucky to be my wife," he snapped.

Yeah, to everyone else, I was Peter's wife, living in a mansion, driving a luxury car, having everything anyone could want.

But nobody knew all the hardship and pain I endured to support him all the way here.

And now, with him dodging and mumbling like that, the truth was clear as day.

I took a deep breath, fighting to hold back my tears. "Did you ever stop to think about Nina? She's your flesh and blood."

Peter went silent.

We stood there in silence for what felt like ages, until he finally broke the silence and retreated into his study.

I stayed rooted to the spot, watching him leave without a second glance, and felt a sharp ache in my chest.

I wiped my face and walked into the walk-in closet.

The safe was all the way in the back, and the code was supposed to be our wedding anniversary.

I crouched down and entered those familiar numbers, but it was wrong.

I thought maybe I'd pressed something wrong, so I tried again and again, but it was still wrong every time.

I stood there, stunned, when it suddenly dawned on me, Emily's birthday.

My hands trembled as I entered those numbers.

The door swung open.

Peter had already changed the code to Emily's birthday.

Too shocked to think straight, I peered into the back of the safe.

Sure enough, there was a will inside.

I found the part about who got what.

It read: [30% goes to my daughter, Nina Hayes. 10% to my wife, Susan Hayes. And 60% to Emily Lane.]

Sixty percent was for Emily, the woman whose man was long gone.

Only ten percent was for me.

And Nina and I together? We still didn't come close to what Emily got.

Suddenly, I felt like a complete clown.

Thirty years of youth, blood, sweat, and tears, and to him, it was only worth ten percent.

I wasn't worth as much as someone he claimed was a friend.

I put the will back, then slid down to the floor, leaning against the wardrobe, feeling utterly drained.

I pressed my hands to my face, tears pouring out uncontrollably.

But I forced myself to stay silent, swallowing every sob.

Peter was in his study, and I couldn't let him hear me break down.

I'd spent half my life in tears, but this time, once the crying was over, I'd let it go.

After the tears, it was finally my turn to live for myself.