I thought you loved me. That was why, on the day I married your father, you went to speak with him in private, even though he had both your legs broken.
I thought you loved me. That was why the woman you sought out looked so much like me. She was just my substitute.
I thought you loved me. In this sprawling mansion, your care and kindness toward me seemed like proof of your love.
But later, I learned the truth. Why did I have to live through one lie after another, one deception after another?
