She spoke gently.
“Would you like me to sit with you?”
I nodded immediately.
Damien looked relieved.
“I’ll step outside.”
I watched him leave.
Camille placed the blanket over my shoulders.
Then she sat beside me.
“Sweetheart,” she said softly, “has your husband hurt you before?”
I stared at my hands.
For three years, I’d protected Brandon’s reputation.
Explained away the bruises.
Hidden the arguments.
Told myself every marriage had difficult moments.
But sitting in that office, with a stranger offering me water and asking a question without judgment, something inside me finally broke.
“Yes,” I whispered.
Camille took a slow breath.
“Do you have somewhere safe you can go tonight?”
I thought about my sister, Jasmine.
We hadn’t spoken in eight months.
Brandon had told me she was trying to destroy our marriage.
I’d believed him.
Or perhaps believing him had been easier than admitting how isolated I’d become.
