"If there aren't enough rooms, somebody has to go," Dad said. "It could have been anyone."He lifted his eyes to mine."But afterward, I figured something out. She hadn't made that choice when we got there. She'd decided in advance that I'd be the one to leave."My throat tightened so suddenly it hurt.Dad went on. "She knew we wouldn't cause trouble. That's why she chose us. That isn't about bedrooms anymore."Mom's paring knife stopped moving.We sat in silence for a long time.Finally, she lowered her head. "You're right."A little later, she handed me the peeled apple."Nolan, I've spent years telling you that marriage means learning to put up with things. Maybe I was wrong. You put up with something once, and people expect you to do it again. Keep doing it, and eventually they think you owe it to them."Tears spilled down my cheeks.Mom quickly reached over to wipe them away."What's all this crying for?" she said gently. "Whether you divorce her is your choice. Don't
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