“And that caused the argument?”
“Partly. I was judgmental. I pushed too hard. He accused me of trying to ruin his relationship.”
She paused.
“Eventually, he stopped calling.”
I stared at my coffee.
“Everett told me you thought I wasn’t good enough for him.”
Beatrice shook her head.
“I barely knew you. My concern was that Everett didn’t understand what commitment required.”
For seven years, I’d believed my husband had courageously defended me against his mother.
Now I learned he’d turned her criticism of his behavior into a story about his devotion.
“Did you know we got married?” I asked.
“No. When we reconnected earlier this year, he said your relationship had ended long ago.”
“And you believed I was renting a bedroom?”
“Yes. He said you needed affordable housing and that you remained friends.”
She looked ashamed.
“I didn’t question him enough.”
I believed her.
