I have an idea. Liv, why don't we... why don't we sleep on the new couch in the living room? It's a p

living room of our own house, so his sister-in-law could have our bed. The suggestion wasn't just absurd, it was insulting. It communic

us?" I asked,

er, a new voice cut

hell is going

ing, his tie loosened. He took in the scene with a quick, sharp glance: Brittany clinging to his mother, Ethan looking like a condemned

," Martha began. "Olivia is b

pted, his voice firm, cutting his mother

to make my composure crumble. The anger that had been holding me together wavered, and a wave of raw

"Brittany is insisting that she should sleep in the master bed

r showing any weakness in front of them. It was the injustice of it, the sheer, mind-bending insanity of the sit

me to his wife, then to his brother. He

. "It's your wedding night. You're telling your wife to sleep on the c

he'd been struck. "I

turned his glare on Brittany. "And you. What are you doing? T

sband, in front of everyone, was a blow she couldn't absorb. Her carefully

at the nearest object-a crystal vase filled with white roses on the nightstand. With a furious scream, she sw

ger at a stunned Ethan. "Do you think he paid for his own college tuition? Do you think he bought that car on his own?

ion. It was about a debt she felt was owed, a debt she had come to collect on m