to bury. I saw it in her eyes, the same terror from three years ago, when a business rival from my old life had tried to use her as leverage. They had cornered her in a parking garage. I g

ld her sense of safety, her trust in the world. And now, this idio

came out of me was not the voice of Alex, the stay-at-home dad. I

rdened with rage. He felt his authority being cha

my head to the side. It barely hurt. I' d been hit by professionals. This was a joke. His two f

e, his face twisted in a triumphant, ugly mask. He looked down at me

s. Right now. Get on your knees and lick the dirt off my shoe. Do it

of absolute fury. Pinning my arms was one thing. Hitting me was another. But tryi

shaking uncontrollably, her face pale and streaked

her voice so small and broken it felt like a piece o

last thread of my