The Woman Beside My Husband<\/p>\n
The first thing I noticed was his hand.<\/p>\n
It rested at the small of another woman\u2019s back with the careless familiarity of a gesture repeated many times before, and although the ballroom around them shimmered beneath thousands of crystal lights, although a string quartet played near the marble staircase and waiters moved gracefully through the crowd with silver trays, I could see nothing except those five fingers spread possessively against ivory silk.<\/p>\n
My husband, Andrew Bellamy, looked magnificent that evening. He always did when there was an audience.<\/p>\n
At thirty-seven, he had inherited the handsome, polished features of an old white American family whose name had appeared on Midwestern factories, freight terminals, and charitable foundations for nearly a century. In his black tuxedo, standing beneath the chandeliers of the Grand Marquette Hotel in Chicago, he looked exactly like the future chairman everyone expected him to become.<\/p>\n
Beside him stood Elise Carrington, his college sweetheart.<\/p>\n
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\nShe had returned to Illinois six weeks earlier after years in California, where she had built a successful career advising wealthy collectors on private art purchases. She was thirty-five, elegant and pale, with soft blond hair and the kind of delicate smile that made people lean closer when she spoke. Her silver-white gown was simple enough to appear tasteful and expensive enough to make that simplicity a statement.<\/p>\n
Around her neck was a diamond pendant I recognized immediately.<\/p>\n
Andrew had bought it three weeks earlier.<\/p>\n
For her.<\/p>\n
I stood near a column at the far edge of the ballroom, holding a glass of sparkling water I had not touched. My name is Julia Merritt Bellamy, and at that moment, at least according to the state of Illinois, I was still Andrew\u2019s wife.<\/p>\n
For one month, we had barely spoken.<\/p>\n
Now he had brought another woman to a gala our family was supposed to host together.<\/p>\n
People tried not to stare at me, which naturally meant they stared even more.<\/p>\n
I heard fragments of conversation behind carefully raised glasses.<\/p>\n
\u201cIsn\u2019t that Elise Carrington?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cI thought Andrew was married.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cJulia is right over there.\u201d<\/p>\n
The worst part was not Andrew.<\/p>\n
It was his mother.<\/p>\n
Diane Bellamy stood beside Elise with unmistakable approval, touching her arm, introducing her to donors, behaving with a warmth she had never once shown me in four years of marriage. To Diane, Elise was everything I was not\u2014socially effortless, flattering, decorative without appearing foolish, and willing to let a Bellamy man occupy the center of every room.<\/p>\n
I watched them from a distance, and something inside me became very still.<\/p>\n
Then the ballroom doors opened.<\/p>\n
Walter Bellamy, Andrew\u2019s father and the seventy-one-year-old chairman of Bellamy Industrial Group, entered so quickly that two guests stepped aside to avoid him. His usual executive calm was gone. His gray hair was disordered, his bow tie slightly crooked, and his face carried the look of a man who had just learned that the floor beneath his entire life was no longer secure.<\/p>\n
He crossed the ballroom without greeting anyone.<\/p>\n
Andrew finally saw him.<\/p>\n
\u201cDad?\u201d<\/p>\n
Walter stopped in front of his son and struck him once across the cheek.<\/p>\n
The music faltered.<\/p>\n
A hundred conversations disappeared at once.<\/p>\n
Andrew stared at his father, one hand rising slowly to his face.<\/p>\n
\u201cWhat is wrong with you?\u201d<\/p>\n
Walter\u2019s voice came out low at first, which somehow made it more powerful.<\/p>\n
\u201cWhat is wrong with me?\u201d<\/p>\n
He took one step closer.<\/p>\n
\u201cYour wife just called back two hundred and forty million dollars in private capital, Andrew. Two banks have suspended our revolving credit access while they review the exposure. Three lenders are demanding updated collateral statements before Monday morning.\u201d<\/p>\n
Andrew\u2019s face emptied of color.<\/p>\n
Walter pointed toward him with a trembling hand.<\/p>\n
\u201cAnd you are standing here smiling?\u201d<\/p>\n
For the first time that evening, my husband looked for me.<\/p>\n
His eyes moved across the ballroom, past donors, politicians, executives, and old family friends, until he found me beside the column.<\/p>\n
I placed my glass on a nearby table.<\/p>\n
Then I began to clap.<\/p>\n
Slowly.<\/p>\n
Quietly.<\/p>\n
One deliberate clap after another.<\/p>\n
And to understand why, you have to understand what happened one month earlier.<\/p>\n
The Receipt He Forgot
\nBefore marrying Andrew, I had spent fifteen years building a life that had nothing to do with the Bellamy name.<\/p>\n
I was a civil engineer by training, and at twenty-nine I founded a company that designed modular water-treatment systems for rural communities and industrial sites. The business grew faster than anyone expected. By thirty-four, after selling a majority stake to a national infrastructure group, I had enough money to spend the rest of my life doing very little.<\/p>\n
Instead, I made the mistake of believing that marriage meant building something together.<\/p>\n
Bellamy Industrial Group was struggling when Andrew and I married. Its public reputation remained impressive, but behind the polished annual reports were aging plants, expensive expansion projects, and a dangerous shortage of flexible cash. Using proceeds from my company sale and assets held through my family trust, I provided more than two hundred million dollars through a combination of preferred equity, secured notes, and emergency credit facilities.<\/p>\n
I did not simply hand them money.<\/p>\n
I helped redesign supply contracts, introduced them to municipal infrastructure buyers, and negotiated a manufacturing partnership that brought three Bellamy plants back to full capacity.<\/p>\n
Walter understood what I had done.<\/p>\n
Andrew preferred to forget.<\/p>\n
The first clear sign of Elise came through a receipt.<\/p>\n
One evening, an invoice for a diamond pendant appeared in an email account used for household bookkeeping. The purchase was just under sixty thousand dollars. At first I assumed it was an anniversary gift, though our anniversary was months away.<\/p>\n
Then I saw the delivery address.<\/p>\n
A luxury hotel near Chicago\u2019s Gold Coast.<\/p>\n
I hired an investigator three days later.<\/p>\n
The photographs arrived the following week.<\/p>\n
Andrew meeting Elise outside O\u2019Hare.<\/p>\n
Andrew opening his car door for her.<\/p>\n
Andrew having dinner with her in a private room at an Italian restaurant in River North.<\/p>\n
Andrew walking beside her after midnight, leaning close as she laughed.<\/p>\n
There was no single photograph that explained everything, yet together they told me more than I wanted to know.<\/p>\n
That evening, I waited in our Lake Forest home until Andrew returned.<\/p>\n
He entered the bedroom shortly after eleven, loosened his tie, and frowned when he saw me sitting awake.<\/p>\n
\u201cYou\u2019re still up?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cElise Carrington is back.\u201d<\/p>\n
His hand stopped at his collar.<\/p>\n
Only for a second.<\/p>\n
\u201cYeah. She moved back recently.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cYou picked her up at the airport.\u201d<\/p>\n
He looked at me more carefully.<\/p>\n
\u201cHow do you know that?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cYou bought her a diamond pendant.\u201d<\/p>\n
His expression hardened.<\/p>\n
\u201cJulia, don\u2019t start.\u201d<\/p>\n
There are moments in a marriage when a sentence tells you more than a confession ever could. Do not start. As though the problem were not what he had done, but my inconvenient decision to notice it.<\/p>\n
I stood and faced him.<\/p>\n
\u201cI\u2019m asking you a simple question. Why are you buying expensive jewelry for a woman you used to be involved with?\u201d<\/p>\n
Andrew exhaled with exaggerated patience.<\/p>\n
\u201cBecause she has had a difficult year. Because she came back here with almost no support system. Because I have known her since college. Pick one.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cAnd the dinners?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cFriends have dinner.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cThe hotel bills charged through a Bellamy corporate card?\u201d<\/p>\n
That finally reached him.<\/p>\n
His eyes sharpened.<\/p>\n
\u201cYou went through my expenses?\u201d<\/p>\n
I almost laughed.<\/p>\n
\u201cThe receipt was forwarded to our household account.\u201d<\/p>\n
He turned away, poured himself a drink, and for several seconds said nothing. Then he made the decision that ended our marriage, although he did not understand that yet.<\/p>\n
He blamed me.<\/p>\n
\u201cMaybe I enjoy being around someone who doesn\u2019t treat every conversation like a board meeting.\u201d<\/p>\n
I stared at him.<\/p>\n
He continued.<\/p>\n
\u201cElise actually listens. She knows how to be warm. She knows how to walk into a room without making everyone feel like they\u2019re being evaluated.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cIs that why you want her at the foundation gala?\u201d<\/p>\n
He looked back too quickly.<\/p>\n
There it was.<\/p>\n
I had guessed correctly.<\/p>\n
The annual Bellamy Heritage Foundation gala was three weeks away, and Andrew and I were expected to appear together as the younger public face of the family.<\/p>\n
\u201cMy mother thinks Elise could help with some donor introductions,\u201d he said.<\/p>\n
\u201cYour mother.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cDon\u2019t make this childish.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cAre you taking her?\u201d<\/p>\n
Andrew\u2019s jaw tightened.<\/p>\n
\u201cShe is better suited to certain social situations than you are.\u201d<\/p>\n
For four years, I had helped keep his family\u2019s company standing. I had spent holidays listening to Diane criticize my clothes, my work hours, my independence, and eventually the fact that Andrew and I had not given her grandchildren. I had attended dinners I hated, smiled beside people who dismissed me, and quietly solved financial problems that none of them wanted discussed outside closed rooms.<\/p>\n
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\nYet somehow I was the embarrassment.<\/p>\n
I walked to my desk and removed a folder.<\/p>\n
Andrew frowned.<\/p>\n
\u201cWhat is that?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cA separation agreement.\u201d<\/p>\n
He stared at me as though I had suddenly begun speaking another language.<\/p>\n
\u201cYou\u2019re serious?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cCompletely.\u201d<\/p>\n
He snatched the document and began reading.<\/p>\n
Then he reached the section concerning my investments in Bellamy Industrial Group.<\/p>\n
His expression changed.<\/p>\n
\u201cYou\u2019re calling back the capital?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cYes.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cJulia, you can\u2019t do that right now.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cI can.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cWe\u2019re in the middle of two major plant expansions.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cI know.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cThis could put the company in an impossible position.\u201d<\/p>\n
I looked at the man who had once promised that we would be partners in everything.<\/p>\n
\u201cThen perhaps you should have remembered who your partner was.\u201d<\/p>\n
The Month of Silence<\/p>\n
Andrew did not sign.<\/p>\n
Instead, he waited for me to apologize.<\/p>\n
That was his pattern. Whenever I resisted his family, he withdrew affection until I became tired enough to restore peace. This time I moved into a guest suite at the opposite end of the house and stopped trying to repair anything.<\/p>\n
Within days, Andrew appeared publicly with Elise more often.<\/p>\n
A private museum reception.<\/p>\n
A restaurant opening.<\/p>\n
A charity luncheon.<\/p>\n
Each appearance seemed designed to send me the same message: he could replace me before our marriage was even formally over.<\/p>\n
Diane encouraged him.<\/p>\n
According to a longtime housekeeper who had grown fond of me, she told Andrew one evening, \u201cLet Julia take her money. Your grandfather built this company before she was even born. We are Bellamys. We will manage.\u201d<\/p>\n
That sentence would later become almost funny.<\/p>\n
Walter was traveling through Canada at the time, negotiating a large equipment contract, and Andrew apparently assumed his father could solve whatever financial inconvenience my departure created.<\/p>\n
But I knew the numbers.<\/p>\n
I also knew something Andrew did not realize I knew.<\/p>\n
For nearly two years, I had noticed unusual payments flowing from Bellamy subsidiaries into consulting companies with vague names and almost no visible operations. At first I assumed there were legitimate explanations. Then I discovered that several entities were connected to Andrew\u2019s longtime friends.<\/p>\n
I began saving records.<\/p>\n
Invoices.<\/p>\n
Transfer confirmations.<\/p>\n
Internal approvals.<\/p>\n
Expense reports.<\/p>\n
I told myself it was caution.<\/p>\n
Perhaps, deep down, I already understood.<\/p>\n
One night, alone in the guest suite, I opened the encrypted archive on my laptop and called my attorney, Rebecca Shaw.<\/p>\n
\u201cI\u2019m ready.\u201d<\/p>\n
Rebecca was silent for a moment.<\/p>\n
\u201cReady for the divorce filing?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cFor everything.\u201d<\/p>\n
I looked at the files covering my screen.<\/p>\n
\u201cPrepare the formal capital withdrawal notices. Every entity, every note, every secured position. I want them reviewed and ready.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cThat will create immediate pressure on Bellamy.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cI know.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cAnd the irregular company transfers?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cSend them to an independent forensic accounting team.\u201d<\/p>\n
Another pause.<\/p>\n
\u201cJulia, once this begins, it may become very public.\u201d<\/p>\n
I looked through the window toward the dark lawn of the Bellamy estate.<\/p>\n
\u201cAndrew already made it public.\u201d<\/p>\n
The Invitation
\nThe night before the gala, Walter returned home.<\/p>\n
At dinner, he immediately noticed the distance between Andrew and me.<\/p>\n
Diane talked brightly about flowers, donor tables, and Elise\u2019s supposed help with guest arrangements until Walter placed his fork down.<\/p>\n
\u201cWhy is Elise Carrington involved in our family event?\u201d<\/p>\n
Diane blinked.<\/p>\n
\u201cShe has wonderful social connections.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cJulia has social connections.\u201d<\/p>\n
No one spoke.<\/p>\n
Walter looked at Andrew.<\/p>\n
\u201cYou are attending with your wife.\u201d<\/p>\n
Andrew shifted in his chair.<\/p>\n
\u201cJulia hasn\u2019t exactly been cooperative lately.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cThat was not a question.\u201d<\/p>\n
Then Walter turned to me.<\/p>\n
\u201cJulia, I expect you there.\u201d<\/p>\n
His words were traditional, almost stern. He still did not know the full story, and I could tell that what concerned him most was appearances.<\/p>\n
Still, I smiled faintly.<\/p>\n
\u201cI\u2019ll attend.\u201d<\/p>\n
Andrew looked up.<\/p>\n
Diane went still.<\/p>\n
I placed my napkin beside my plate.<\/p>\n
\u201cBut I will attend as Andrew\u2019s wife. I will not stand quietly while another woman is presented in my place.\u201d<\/p>\n
Walter frowned.<\/p>\n
\u201cAnother woman?\u201d<\/p>\n
Andrew interrupted.<\/p>\n
\u201cShe\u2019s exaggerating.\u201d<\/p>\n
I looked directly at him.<\/p>\n
\u201cAm I?\u201d<\/p>\n
The room became very quiet.<\/p>\n
Walter ordered Diane to remove Elise from the guest list.<\/p>\n
An hour later, as I passed Andrew\u2019s study, I heard him speaking on the phone.<\/p>\n
\u201cYou\u2019re still coming,\u201d he said. \u201cI\u2019ll handle it.\u201d<\/p>\n
I continued walking.<\/p>\n
In my room, a silver flash drive waited beside my evening clutch.<\/p>\n
So did the final withdrawal documents.<\/p>\n
Beneath the Chandeliers<\/p>\n
The following night, I arrived at the Grand Marquette in a dark green velvet gown and small diamond earrings that had belonged to my grandmother. Nothing about the dress begged for attention, yet for the first time in months, I felt entirely like myself.<\/p>\n
For half an hour, the evening remained civil.<\/p>\n
Then Elise arrived.<\/p>\n
She entered on the arm of Andrew\u2019s uncle Howard, who claimed cheerfully that he had invited her himself. I knew at once that the arrangement was planned.<\/p>\n
Andrew pretended surprise.<\/p>\n
\u201cElise? What are you doing here?\u201d<\/p>\n
She lowered her eyes.<\/p>\n
\u201cHoward insisted. I hope I haven\u2019t caused trouble.\u201d<\/p>\n
Within minutes, Andrew had placed her hand through his arm.<\/p>\n
Then he walked her toward me.<\/p>\n
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\nThe diamond pendant glittered at her throat.<\/p>\n
\u201cJulia,\u201d Elise said softly, \u201cyou look beautiful.\u201d<\/p>\n
I smiled.<\/p>\n
\u201cThank you. So does Andrew\u2019s gift.\u201d<\/p>\n
Her fingers moved instinctively toward the necklace.<\/p>\n
Several nearby conversations stopped.<\/p>\n
Andrew\u2019s face tightened.<\/p>\n
\u201cNot tonight.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cWhy not?\u201d I asked. \u201cI\u2019m curious. Was the pendant purchased personally, or through the company account that paid for Elise\u2019s hotel suite?\u201d<\/p>\n
Walter turned sharply toward his son.<\/p>\n
Diane whispered my name in warning.<\/p>\n
Andrew\u2019s voice hardened.<\/p>\n
\u201cYou are making a scene over ordinary business expenses.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cThen you won\u2019t mind an audit.\u201d<\/p>\n
For one brief moment, I saw real concern in his eyes.<\/p>\n
Then anger covered it.<\/p>\n
\u201cThis is exactly why nobody can talk to you anymore. You threaten people. You turn everything into leverage. You\u2019ve spent a month punishing this family because you cannot accept that someone else may be easier to be around.\u201d<\/p>\n
Elise looked down with tears gathering in her eyes.<\/p>\n
Around us, people shifted uneasily.<\/p>\n
Andrew saw that he had an audience and continued.<\/p>\n
\u201cYou demanded a divorce. You threatened to withdraw money from a company that employs thousands of people. And now you come here pretending you are the injured party.\u201d<\/p>\n
I studied him carefully.<\/p>\n
There had once been a time when I would have defended myself immediately.<\/p>\n
Not anymore.<\/p>\n
I reached for my clutch.<\/p>\n
Before I could open it, Walter\u2019s phone rang.<\/p>\n
He stepped away.<\/p>\n
Two minutes later, the ballroom doors opened again.<\/p>\n
That was when he returned, crossed the room, and struck his son.<\/p>\n
\u201cYour wife withdrew two hundred and forty million dollars,\u201d he said. \u201cThe lenders are reviewing everything. We may not meet Monday\u2019s obligations without emergency financing.\u201d<\/p>\n
Andrew looked at me.<\/p>\n
And I applauded.<\/p>\n
Not because I enjoyed Walter\u2019s fear.<\/p>\n
Not because I wanted innocent employees to suffer.<\/p>\n
I applauded because for one full month, Andrew had treated my patience as weakness and my contribution as something that belonged to him by marriage.<\/p>\n
At last, he understood.<\/p>\n
When I stopped clapping, I walked toward the center of the room.<\/p>\n
\u201cNow we can talk honestly.\u201d<\/p>\n
I opened my clutch and removed the documents.<\/p>\n
Then the silver drive.<\/p>\n
I placed both on a nearby table.<\/p>\n
\u201cMy withdrawal notices have been delivered to the board, the lenders, and the company\u2019s audit committee. I gave Bellamy repeated opportunities to negotiate a structured exit. Andrew refused because he believed I would eventually surrender.\u201d<\/p>\n
Walter stared at the drive.<\/p>\n
\u201cWhat is that?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cRecords.\u201d<\/p>\n
Andrew moved toward me.<\/p>\n
\u201cJulia, don\u2019t.\u201d<\/p>\n
It was the first time in weeks he had spoken my name without contempt.<\/p>\n
I continued.<\/p>\n
\u201cPayments from Bellamy subsidiaries to consulting firms linked to Andrew\u2019s associates. Inflated invoices. Company funds used for personal expenses. Preliminary analysis indicates more than nine million dollars requires explanation.\u201d<\/p>\n
Andrew\u2019s face changed.<\/p>\n
\u201cYou had no right to go through confidential company records.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cI am one of the company\u2019s largest private investors, and several documents were submitted to entities in which I hold direct financial interests.\u201d<\/p>\n
He stepped closer, but one of my security consultants quietly moved between us.<\/p>\n
Walter gripped the edge of the table.<\/p>\n
\u201cJulia,\u201d he said, his voice suddenly older, \u201cmust this happen here?\u201d<\/p>\n
I looked around the ballroom.<\/p>\n
At Diane.<\/p>\n
At Elise.<\/p>\n
At Andrew.<\/p>\n
At all the people who had watched my husband display another woman beside him while assuming I would remain silent for the sake of a powerful family\u2019s reputation.<\/p>\n
\u201cI did not choose this room, Walter. Your son did.\u201d<\/p>\n
No one answered.<\/p>\n
I placed the separation agreement beside the drive.<\/p>\n
\u201cMy terms are simple. Andrew signs. My principal and contractually owed return are paid according to the secured agreements. The board investigates the transfers independently. I will not interfere with that process, and I will not protect anyone from its findings.\u201d<\/p>\n
Andrew finally lost his polished public expression.<\/p>\n
\u201cYou\u2019re willing to tear apart everything over Elise?\u201d<\/p>\n
I looked at him for a long moment.<\/p>\n
\u201cNo, Andrew. Elise merely helped me see what was already broken.\u201d<\/p>\n
That was the quietest sentence I spoke all evening.<\/p>\n
It was also the truest.<\/p>\n
The Door I Opened for Myself
\nWalter agreed before midnight to convene an emergency board session.<\/p>\n
Within days, Andrew was placed on administrative leave while the financial review proceeded. The family did not publicly discuss the details, and neither did I. Elise disappeared from their social circle almost as quickly as she had entered it.<\/p>\n
The divorce took months rather than days.<\/p>\n
Real endings usually do.<\/p>\n
There were lawyers, valuations, negotiations, angry letters, and several attempts by Andrew to persuade me that we had both made mistakes. Once, he even came to the townhouse I rented in Lincoln Park and stood outside beneath a cold spring rain.<\/p>\n
\u201cWe could fix this,\u201d he said.<\/p>\n
I looked at the man I had once loved.<\/p>\n
Perhaps some part of me always would.<\/p>\n
But love, I had learned, is not permission for another person to reduce you slowly and then ask for gratitude because they stopped before nothing remained.<\/p>\n
\u201cNo,\u201d I told him gently. \u201cWe can finish it with dignity. That\u2019s the best I can offer.\u201d<\/p>\n
A year later, I used part of the recovered capital to establish a new engineering company focused on water systems for small towns across the Midwest. I hired young engineers, many of them women who had been told they were too quiet, too difficult, too ambitious, or simply too much.<\/p>\n
Sometimes, late in the afternoon, sunlight spreads across the long windows of my office and catches the framed photograph on my desk.<\/p>\n
It is not a wedding photograph.<\/p>\n
It is a picture of me at twenty-nine, standing in a muddy construction field beside the first water-treatment system my old company ever completed. My hair is tied badly beneath a hard hat. My boots are covered in dirt. I am laughing at something outside the frame.<\/p>\n
I had forgotten that woman for a while.<\/p>\n
Andrew had not taken her from me. Diane had not erased her. Elise had never replaced her.<\/p>\n
I had simply abandoned her while trying too hard to earn a place at someone else\u2019s table.<\/p>\n
People sometimes ask whether I regret applauding beneath those chandeliers.<\/p>\n
The honest answer is complicated.<\/p>\n
I regret the years spent believing loyalty required silence. I regret every moment I made myself smaller so another person could feel larger. I regret confusing endurance with love and family reputation with family devotion.<\/p>\n
But the applause?<\/p>\n
No.<\/p>\n
I do not regret that.<\/p>\n
Because sometimes the most important moment in a woman\u2019s life is not when someone finally chooses her.<\/p>\n
It is when she finally stops waiting to be chosen, gathers everything that still belongs to her, and walks through the door she should have opened for herself long ago.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"
The Woman Beside My Husband The first thing I noticed was his hand. It rested at the small of another woman\u2019s back with the careless … <\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":3428,"comment_status":"closed","ping_status":"closed","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[1,10],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-3427","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","has-post-thumbnail","hentry","category-uncategorized","category--trending-stories"],"yoast_head":"\n