My son h.i.t me last night, and I stayed silent. This morning, I laid out my lace tablecloth, made a full Southern breakfast, and then set the fine china like it was Christmas.

In the weeks that followed, I took steps I should have taken long ago. I went to the community center and joined a support group for families living with domestic pain. I began counseling with Dr. Yvonne McCray, who helped me understand that fear can masquerade as devotion, and silence can look like loyalty until the mask slips. Sheriff Price checked in once, just to make sure I was safe. I heard from someone in town that Jared had entered a court mandated anger management program. I have not spoken to him. Maybe one day I will. Maybe not.

Some mornings now, I lay out that lace tablecloth again. Not because I am pretending. Not because I am apologizing. I do it because I like how sunlight catches on the pattern. I do it because I am worth effort, even if I am the only one sitting at the table. Respect is not something that must be earned through fear. It is something that simply should be.