Tell me where you are.”

She drove from Raleigh that afternoon.

When she entered my small hotel room, she didn’t remark on its cracked lamp or the suitcase open on the bed.

She simply hugged me until I started crying.

“I thought you’d hate me,” I managed.

“I’m angry you had to handle all of that alone.

That’s different.”

Over takeout noodles, I told her about Dennis controlling our finances, belittling my education, and treating any disagreement as disloyalty.