For Nine Years He Mistook My Silence for Surrender; What He Never Understood Was That Every Dinner I Didn’t Fight About Was a Day I Stayed Close Enough to Gather What I Needed to End Him

It had been collection.

So when Lorna set the temporary no-contact order in front of him, it was not my word against his; it was a physician’s report, and a time-stamped photograph, and his own recorded voice.

Roman shoved his chair back so hard it struck the wall.

“You think a stack of paperwork makes you powerful?” Lorna moved to stand between us.

I did not move at all; I stayed exactly where I was, seated, calm, my hands folded.

“No,” I said.