In the middle of dinner, my husband laughed and told our friends that no one else wanted me, so he married me out of pity.

When my husband said it, the entire table fell silent for half a second—just long enough for me to wonder if I had misheard.
Then everyone burst out laughing.

We were sitting in an upscale steakhouse in downtown Denver, the kind with dim amber lighting, leather booths, and a wine list so thick it felt like a hardcover novel. It was supposed to be a relaxed dinner with friends: three other couples, great food, too much red wine, and easy conversation. My husband, Brandon Hayes, was in one of his charismatic moods, which should have been a warning. Brandon was at his most dangerous when everyone else found him entertaining.