CINDY’S POV
“You’re seriously defending that guy over me?” Henry barked.
His eyes widened in horror. “Over our marriage?”
“Yes. Just like you choose your Barbie doll over me, over our marriage!”
He froze. “That’s different!”
I let out a bitter scoff. “Different?”
I leaned closer. “Tell me, Henry, what’s so different about it? Go on, explain it!”
“I’m a man, Cindy. And you,” his finger stabbed the air between us, “you’re a woman. The placeholder of this marriage, and your actions determine whether this house stands or falls. And yet here you are—”
His words choked off into fury.
I stared at him, floored by the outdated, patriarchal garbage spilling from his mouth.
How had I been so blind?
How did I end up marrying this sorry excuse of a man in the first place?
What a colossal
