The night I learned I wasn't the biological daughter of the family that raised me, I stopped asking my arranged husband to prove he wanted me. I quit waiting outside his office, quit calling when he worked late, and quit treating his every silence like a problem I could fix. Then I brought home a tiny rescue puppy he had f*******n me to keep. I expected Grant to be relieved by the distance. Instead, he started showing up early, asking where I'd been, and looking personally betrayed whenever the puppy curled in my lap. But when my family's secret began changing the terms of my marriage, I had to decide whether Grant wanted me—or simply wanted the wife who had always followed him.