For years, she had apologized for things she never did. She had explained things that did not need explaining. She had spent countless nights convincing herself that if she became a better wife, a quieter wife, a more patient wife, everything would somehow become normal.
But standing there with a broken arm and a stranger’s voice protecting her through a phone, she realized something painful.
There had never been anything she could have done to make Daniel choose kindness.
The problem had never been her.
Vincent spoke again.
“Lena, listen carefully.”
She closed her eyes.
“I’m listening.”
“Can you move away from him?”
She looked around.
The bathroom was small.
The doorway was blocked.
Daniel stood between her and the hallway.
“I can’t.”
A pause.
Then Vincent asked:
“Can you lock yourself somewhere else?”
Lena looked toward the bedroom door behind Daniel.
“No.”
“Alright.”
His voice remained calm.
