“What’s up?” I asked, standing at the doorway to his office. My voice quivered despite my better intentions. I had realized this years ago, but whenever Ben would hit me—and the frequency could be quite unpredictable over the course of a year—my body would surge with adrenaline. This usually resulted in tremors and shakiness in my voice. Sometimes I had bad dreams. Sometimes I couldn’t sleep. If I were to be honest with myself, my body was sometimes more subject to my hatred than Matt. I hated that I couldn’t control my body enough for it to defend itself appropriately when he hit me, and I
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