Veronica’s name came up constantly. «Veronica organised the charity auction.» «Veronica said the funniest thing at lunch.» «Veronica summers in the Hamptons.» «Veronica understands the professional world.»
I tried to bring it up once. «Brandon, you talk about Veronica a lot.»
His face darkened. «She’s a colleague, Grace. A professional contact. This is exactly what I’m talking about. You’re insecure and paranoid. You don’t understand how the professional world works. This is why I can’t bring you to events. You’re too small-minded.»
Small-minded. After everything I’d sacrificed, I was small-minded for noticing my husband’s obsession with another woman.
Our eighth wedding anniversary fell on a Tuesday in October. I’d been planning for weeks, saving every spare dollar from my tips. I wanted one perfect evening, one night where we could remember who we used to be before medical school and luxury apartments and Veronica Ashford.