Breaking Free from the Cage
Late at night, my husband came home with a young model.
"So, you are the washed-up wife that Mr. Dawson keeps at home?"
The girl looked at me with a mocking smile and said.
Jay Dawson, my husband, reeking of alcohol, glanced between us with interest. He then hugged the young girl and led her into the bedroom.
I sat alone on the living room couch, wrapped in a blanket, and listened to their shameless noises all night.
I endured it for two years.
Our agreement had finally ended this year, and so had my love for Ethan.
I walked away. But Ethan chased after me like a madman.