She Stole My Seat on My Private Jet. She Forgot I Owned the Sky.

as if by natural law, he began calling my life ours.

Our apartment.

Our driver.

Our plane.

Our chef.

Our money.

I corrected him the first few times.

He laughed and wrapped his arms around me.

“Marriage is a merger, Claire.”

No.

Marriage is a vow.

A merger has disclosures.

By the second year, Graham’s father began inviting me to board dinners.

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