Chapter 1

I read Silas a bedtime story and got him to sleep, just as I always did.

Before I could leave, he caught my hand and asked me quietly, "Mom, are you sad today?"

I stroked his hair to soothe him.

"No. You don't need to worry."

He shook his head.

"I can tell you're never happy when you're with Dad. Especially today.

"Do you want to sleep with me tonight? You can have half my bed."

My eyes stung. I held back the tears and smiled.

"It's okay, Silas. As long as I have you, I won't be sad."

When I pushed the bedroom door open, Elias glanced up and went back to his book.

Eight years of marriage, and almost every night ended in that same silence.

Our marriage had been arranged to benefit both families.

I fought it hard at first. I even thought about running away.

Then I found out I'd be marrying Elias, the man I'd secretly loved for years. I said yes on the spot, full of hope.

I agreed to the marriage only because of him.

But he only agreed to marry me because my family name made me a suitable wife for the heir to the Voss family.

For eight years I kept trying to talk to him.

But all I got was a distracted nod while he focused on something else.

Whenever I showed any hurt, he'd frown and say, "Carolyn, you're the future Donna of the Voss family. Don't be so clingy and weak."

That day, I stopped trying to win him over.

I picked up my blanket and pillow and headed for a guest room.

My hand was on the door handle when he finally looked up.

"Where are you going?"

I didn't turn around.

"The guest room. I'm tired, and you're still reading, so I'll go to sleep on my own."

He didn't stop me. He didn't ask me to stay. He didn't say he could put the book down.

He just looked at me and said flatly, "All right. Go ahead."

Once, that would have hurt, and I'd have cried about it alone.

But that night, I just opened the door and left.

If a five-year-old could see it, I wasn't going to keep lying to myself about it.

This fever had lasted eight years. It was time for it to break.

For the first time in eight years, I slept alone in a guest room.

I've always had trouble sleeping in an unfamiliar bed.

When I first moved into that house, I didn't get one decent night's sleep for two weeks.

I told Elias about it, and he said I was spoiled and should get used to it.

But that night I slept straight through to morning without a single dream.

I woke up lighter than I'd felt in years.

The second I stepped out, Silas wrapped himself around my leg and looked up at me.

"Mom, do you feel a little better today?"

I crouched down and put my arms around him.

"With you around, I'll always be happy."

I took his hand and we went to the dining room.

Elias had finished breakfast, and a maid was helping him get dressed.

He always got up and ate early, without waiting for us.

Once he was dressed, he stood there waiting for me to tie his tie.

That was the maid's job.

But I'd always wanted a small ritual that was just for us as husband and wife, so I tied it for him every morning.

Eight years, without missing a day.

He'd gotten used to me waiting on him.

But I didn't want to do it anymore.

I sat Silas down and looked at the maid standing off to the side.

"Tie his tie for him."

She hesitated, and for once Elias actually looked at me.

I didn't look up. I was busy filling Silas's bowl.

After a moment, he said flatly, "Didn't you hear the Donna?"

The maid hurried over and tied it for him.

After he left, Silas asked me quietly, "Mom, are you still mad at Dad? Why didn't you tie his tie this morning?"

I shook my head.

"I'm not mad. I just don't need to be the one to do it.

"A tie is a tie, no matter who ties it. Can you tell the difference between the way I tie it and the way someone else does?"

He thought about it and shook his head.

"I don't think so. Dad didn't seem to think so either."

I nodded and left it there.

Eight years of trying, and it had all meant as little to him as that tie.

He might have needed the things I did for him, but someone else could do them just as well. It made no difference to him.

I was done wasting my energy.