“I’ve told you before—stay away from her! Don’t say her name! Don’t touch her! Don’t look at her! Don’t fill her head with your lies!” He is right in front of me now, his finger poking me in the chest. Everything in me wants to rise to this occasion, to return shout for shout, to curl my hands into fists the way I would have—and did—in the past. Instead, I turn the ring over and over in my pocket, trying to keep my focus there, to keep myself grounded in the moment, to remember who I am and who I’m pretending to be.
