MARJORIE ELLIOTT
Ten years ago
Diana is pregnant.
She's only fifteen.
I always knew she would bring shame and disgrace to this family. I always knew we shouldn't have picked her. I wish Edward had just listened to me and picked a boy instead. But he didn't. And now we're dealing with Diana's burden.
"What are you doing, Ed?" I ask, wearing my classic heels as I watch him pace around the bedroom nervously. Phone in his hand. Eyes glued on the screen.
He was supposed to go golfing with his friends but he's still in his pajamas, belly sticking out through the silky long-sleeved shirt.
Edward grows less attractive each year. We rarely have sèx. And when we do, I end up wishing I had just used a vibrator. He doesn't turn me on anymore. Seeing him naked is disgusting. Maybe it's his hair
