She lived with him all during that week, obeying him, listening to him, pretending it was all okay, she was okay, what he had done was okay. Her love was bigger than his violence for a long time, but this time—when he bought her flowers the next day for the first time ever—scared her just enough. She spent five days making him believe that love was still enough to forgive him (and maybe she wanted to keep on believing it, too, for another minute). She pretended to love him to stay alive and to keep her children alive. And the moment she had a window of freedom—the very next time Byron left for
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