“I’m your wife,” she said. “And this is our business. If something’s changed, you don’t get to pretend I’m not allowed to notice.” For a moment, something flickered across his face—surprise, maybe. Or guilt. He softened. Apologized. Said he’d been stressed. That he was trying to grow things faster than before. He promised to be clearer.
And she believed him. That was the pattern. Question. Deflection. Retreat. Apology. And then just enough reassurance to make her feel steady again. Once, much later, she asked if there was someone else. He looked genuinely offended.