My Son Struck Me Thirty Times at His Birthday Dinner. The Next Morning, I Sold the Mansion He Thought He Owned.
I walked to the bathroom mirror.
The swelling had darkened under my eye.
My lip had split again.
A red line marked my cheek where Trevor’s ring had cut me.
For the first time since it happened, I let myself feel it.
Not the pain.
The grief.
My own son had raised his hand against me thirty times, and I had counted because counting was easier than crying.