His arms went around me tighter but I resisted that warmth, not wanting comfort right now, just wanting this to be over. But that’s the thing about domestic violence. I might not have had the shit kicked out of me the minute I walked into my old kitchen, but Paul had been coercing me, controlling me, belittling me, stealing from me for years, and now he was going to try and steal this, too; my one shot at happiness.
