a problem.
I admitted that I sometimes expected him to recognize what was wrong without my having to explain how deeply it affected me.
Neither confession erased the central fact that he had lied.
But it gave us something concrete to work on.
For the first time, we were addressing a problem together instead of pretending it didn’t exist.
Chapter Nine: The Day I Stopped Investigating My Husband
Several weeks later, I found myself standing in the same kitchen where Eliam had first admitted the truth.
He was making coffee.
