Once, I was late to work and had to rush out of the house

him a chance to twist things further. I told him I was moving out. That I deserved better. I left that night.

The following weeks were hard. I won’t pretend I walked away without pain. There were nights I wanted to call him, to ask why I wasn’t enough. But I didn’t. I cried, sure, but I also healed.

Then, something strange happened.

About a month later,continue reading …