Looking back, I didn’t even know why I stayed for so long. Maybe I was holding on to the memory of who I thought he was. Maybe I thought I didn’t deserve better. Maybe I was just scared to leave.
Not this time.
This time, I wasn’t going to let him pull me back in. I wasn’t going to apologize for being hurt, for standing up for myself, for finally realizing I deserved more than what he was giving me. He could think I was throwing a tantrum all he wanted. This was different. This was final.
I walked out without looking back. A sleek black limousine was waiting for me outside, my mother’s driver stepping out to open the door. Without hesitation, I climbed in, my resolve hardening with every mile we drove.
When I arrived at the police station, the officers greeted me and told me they had the man in custody. My stomach churned as I stepped into the room to face him.
The man was sitting there, looking smug until I sat down across from him. Then his face faltered. When I asked him why he had hurt me, his response chilled me to the bone.
“It was Naomi Benneth,” he said. “She paid me to do it. Told me to make you suffer… and to kill the baby so you won’t have something to hold on with Oliver.”