“Well, sure, I can imagine that. You’re pretty irreplaceable.”

I smiled. That was nice.

Then I marched back upstairs and was startled to find that, in the time I had been gone, Kitty, Thad’s grandmother—wearing her choker pearls and pearl earrings instead of rhinestones—had appeared and was now sitting on the couch underneath her portrait, which was a little creepy.

She patted the space beside her. “Hi, Kitty,” I said.

“Hi, darling.” She leaned over, offering a cheek for a kiss. She smiled at me disapprovingly. “You’re making a mistake. That’s a good boy in there.”

I wasn’t just losing Thad. I was losing his family. His grandmother, his parents, his brother and sister, his aunts and uncles, nieces and nephews.

“Amelia, dear,” she continued, “I know that girls these days have certain ideas about their lives…” She trailed off, pursing her shockingly red lips. “But men have always had their little…” She waved her hand with a flourish. “Dalliances. But that’s all they are. Dalliances. You’re the wife.”

I rolled my eyes. Was she serious? “Kitty, I’m not going to spend my life as the woman who looks the other way.”

She gave me that vivacious smile of hers that I loved so much. “But, darling, you’re not looking the other way. No, no. This is freedom. While he’s doing what he wants to, you’re doing what you want to. No harm, no foul.” As she was painting the picture with her hands, it all started coming together for me. All the glamorous pictures of the sophisticated pool parties and Kitty and Bob arm in arm at galas and fund-raisers, drinking champagne and dancing and laughing. It was an arrangement; it was not forsaking all others until death do us part. My heart sank. Kitty and Bob weren’t true love. Thad and I weren’t, either. Maybe the mere idea of that kind of love was as fake as the rhinestones Kitty wore in that portrait.

Kitty interrupted my thoughts. “Do you understand, darling?”

I searched for someone to share a look of disbelief with, but the room was empty. Was she serious? All the pieces of the puzzle were coming together now. Kitty was funding Thad’s carefree “aspiring novelist” lifestyle—well, Kitty and I were. And if he didn’t do what she wanted, that was going to be over. Maybe Kitty didn’t want a divorced grandson. Maybe she didn’t want a gay grandson. Whatever her reasons, she wanted her grandson to stay married and had somehow persuaded him that he should try to do so. It was absurd, but not surprising. Kitty had Thad wrapped around her little finger, and if she was upset he could barely function.

Thad emerged from the bedroom, looking sheepish. I glared at him and said, “So this is why you want me back?”

I became even surer of my theory when Kitty chimed in, “I’m willing to make this worth your while.”

I locked eyes with Kitty and said, “If you think I can be bought, you don’t know me at all.”