The Worst Week of My Life

And walked away.

No yelling.

No scene.

No tears.

Just the quiet power of someone who finally chose herself.

That night, when it was all over…

I went home.

Closed the door.

And for the first time in a week…

I cried.

But not because I missed him.

I cried because I survived him.

And that was the moment I knew…

I was going to be okay.