My dad saw me limping down the street with my baby and groceries and asked, “Where’s your car?” When I whispered, “His mom took it… said I’m lucky they let me stay,” Dad didn’t argue. He opened the door and said, “Get in. We’re fixing this tonight

as you thought.”

Derek stepped forward. “Lauren, come on. Just stay tonight. We can talk in the morning. You’re overreacting.”

I looked at him—really looked. The unwashed hair, the tired eyes, the way his shoulders slumped like life was something that happened to him instead of something he chose.

“You watched me shrink,” I said quietly. “You heard her continue reading …