Last night my son h.i.t me and I didn’t cry. This morning I got out the nice tablecloth, served breakfast like on special occasions, and when he came downstairs smiling he said, “So you finally learned your lesson”… until he saw who was waiting for him at my table.

“Yes, Wyatt, I am afraid of your footsteps, your voice, and your moods, and I won’t live like this anymore,” I said.

“Now everyone is against me and it is always the same story where I am the problem,” Wyatt muttered.

“We cared so much that we let you destroy this house rather than confront the truth,” I said as he looked down at the floor.

“I kept sinking and nobody pulled me out,” he whispered with a voice that finally started to break.

“Your parents made mistakes, but none of those mistakes give you the right to be a man who beats women,” Harrison said coldly.

“What if I refuse to go to that place?” Wyatt asked while looking at the folder.

“Then you are out of this house today and I will call the sheriff myself to report the assault,” Harrison promised.

“I am not going to lie for you anymore, Wyatt,” I added, feeling my heart racing in my chest.

Wyatt stared at me as if he finally realized that the limit was real, and after a long silence, he went upstairs to his room.