They had never treated me warmly.
Lorraine often complained that my work was too demanding. Clifford believed a wife should support her husband’s ambitions without having ambitions of her own.
Still, when they encountered financial trouble, I helped them.
A series of poor investments had placed their home at risk. Preston begged me to assist them, insisting the situation was temporary.
“They are my parents, Rowan,” he said. “We cannot let them lose everything.”
I quietly covered their overdue mortgage payments and negotiated a legal repayment structure through an independent financial adviser.
I never asked them for praise.
I did it because they were family.
Months later, I discovered that Preston had told Sloane a very different story. He claimed he had personally rescued his parents while I had refused to contribute.
The lie became his excuse for the relationship.
According to him, Sloane admired his devotion to his family, while I was selfish, distant, and emotionally unavailable.
He had rewritten our marriage so he could look like the wounded husband instead of the man who had betrayed his pregnant wife.
