“So,” he said, his voice low and dangerous, “when are you packing up and heading to your mom’s place?”
For a moment, I thought I’d misheard him. But the look in his eyes told me I hadn’t. My heart sank
. Tears welled up in my eyes before I could stop them. Without saying a word, I turned, went upstairs, and began packing a small bag for Tommy and myself.
Within minutes, I was out the door. No one stopped me. No one said goodbye. The only sound that followed me was the slam of the door behind me—a sound that told me everything I needed to know.
I spent the next few days at my mother’s house. It wasn’t perfect—her place was tiny and cluttered—but it was quiet. Peaceful. I could finally breathe. I called Adam, my husband, who was still away on a business trip, and told him everything.Continue reading…
