Marie had a dilemma. She didn't want to talk about her marriage. But it had fundamentally altered her. And if she had learned anything from her marriage, it was this: to have a worthwhile relationship, you had to let the other party know you, warts and all.

"I don't know if I'm capable of loving you, or anyone," Marie said, "I had a very bad marriage and it may have ruined me for relationships."

"Was he abusive?" Herrick asked.

"Not physically. Not until the end," Marie said, "I've told you already that he was a liar. And lying is normal. People lie all the time to avoid blame, to flatter, to manipulate, whatever. But most people understand that if you lie too much, you prevent others from knowing you. The basis of any relationship is commonalities, right? You both like the same music, or the same football team or gardening. You both believe in Jesus, or socialism, or maybe you both hate illegal immigrants. You were both neglected by your parents, or you were both abducted by aliens. Well, what if a person lies about their interests, and their beliefs, and their experiences? You don't actually know them at all, do you? What if you love someone enough to marry them, and then you realize that you fell in love with an imaginary person, a ghost? How could you possibly trust anyone after that? How could you trust yourself?"

Herrick said, "You probably think you should have seen through him. But maybe he’s just a really good con artist."

"When I look back, I can see a lot of red flags that I chose to ignore."

"Well, you were in love. Plus, you’re a normal person who deals with people honestly, it would never occur to you that somebody might be deliberately deceiving you."

Marie sighed and said, "I wish I’d listened to my Dad. He knew there was something off about Martin."

"Did he tell you not to marry him?"

"No," Marie said, "he liked Martin. But he thought that Martin might be covering up something in his past. Dad suggested that I meet some of his friends and ask a lot of questions. But Martin had moved from Tacoma, Washington. It just wasn’t practical to fly out there on a fact-finding mission."

Herrick said, "If it makes you feel any better, my Dad told me not to marry Tricia."

"Really? Why not?"

"Because he could tell that she thought she was better than me."

Marie asked, "Did she think that?"

"Yeah. She had a degree, I didn’t Her family was rich, mine wasn’t. I guess I thought that, over time, I’d prove myself to her, and she’d value me more. Never happened, though."