My parents texted me, “The Christmas party has been canceled. Don’t come, my love.” They had no idea I was standing right outside the door, watching them and my sister raise a glass and say, “Merry Christmas—it’s so much better without So

the window—straight at me. “No,” she said loudly enough that I heard it through the glass. “It’s a pattern.”

I stepped away from the window, heart hammering. David touched my elbow gently.

“Now,” he said.

“What do I do?” I whispered.

David’s voice stayed calm. “You walk in,” he said. “Not to beg. Not to fight.”
He held the door open for me like it was the continue reading …