Little by little, all my attention shifted toward him. I didn’t even notice Maxon drifting away until the day he snapped—until he became angry, almost violent in his frustration.
That was the last time we spoke.
By twenty, Maxon had left, the entire family treated him like the black sheep. Even their grandmother couldn’t stand to hear his name.
And by twenty-three, I married Lewis.
Except now—
Lewis wasn’t Lewis. He was Maxon. The real Lewis was gone, stolen from me long before I even had a chance to understand it.
I felt myself breaking in half, then in quarters, then into dust. Everything… everything I thought I knew was a lie.
I wiped my tears with the back of my hand and stood up abruptly.
Maxon was finally asleep on the couch, breathing peacefully. Peacefully, when he had destroyed my entire world.
I grabbed my phone and walked out the door before I could think.
My hands were shaking as I dialed.
It rang once.
“Hello?” my mother answered, her voice thick with sleep.
I swallowed the lump in my throat.
“Mom,” I whispered, my voice cracking. “Please take me home. I’m going to divorce my husband.”