And walked away.
No yelling.
No scene.
No tears.
Just the quiet power of someone who finally chose herself.
That night, when it was all over…
I went home.
Closed the door.
And for the first time in a week…
I cried.
But not because I missed him.
I cried because I survived him.
And that was the moment I knew…
I was going to be okay.
