“Congratulations.” I said it to Penelope Hayes, my husband’s latest favorite. She froze. The relatives gathered around to watch the spectacle fell silent. Today was a family gathering at the Croft estate. In front of everyone, my husband, Julian, had just announced that the hostess of this year’s Founders’ Gala would, once again, not be me—his wife of five years—but Penelope. All of Charleston society was waiting for my fifth annual breakdown. Waiting for me to scream and claw at my husband like a madwoman over the empty title of “Mrs. Croft.” But I only smiled. Because I had been waiting for this day, too. For five years. My brother, Liam, ever the pragmatist, had made a deal with me long ago. If Julian humiliated me like this for five years in a row, I had to pack my bags and go home with him. Tonight was the deadline. … My composure clearly stung Julian. He personally removed the sapphire earrings from my ears, then turned and fastened......
