Chapter 1: Country Club Games

At the Maple Heights Country Club, the wives circled their tables like a flock of well-dressed birds, gossip rising over the hum of the air conditioning.

The chatter hovered above the white tablecloths, punctuated by the clink of crystal glasses and the distant whir of golf carts outside. The big question—should you ever forgive a cheating husband?—drifted through the room, sticky and persistent, like the lilies in the centerpiece, too sweet and a little suffocating.

My answer drew a round of odd, almost mocking looks.

"Wait, Mrs. Lawson, did you just say you wouldn’t let him off the hook?"

That set off a ripple of laughter.

I forced a laugh too, pressing a smile in place even as my hand gripped the napkin under the table. My grandfather’s words echoed in my mind: "Keep your chin up, Aubrey. Never let them see you flinch in public."

After all, everyone knew the score.

In this crowd, I was considered the weakest, most useless original wife around.

My reputation was so well-known that some of the older women made a point of patting my hand—like they were handing out sympathy at a charity drive—before smirking behind their martinis.

The clatter of forks paused, then picked up, sharper than before.

Later, when they remembered that scene, they realized with horror:

The "way out" I spoke of, and the "way out" they meant,

were not the same thing at all.