I stood there in silence. All my expectations for that first night — the romance, the warmth, the tenderness — had shattered, like the rose petals scattered on the floor.

Later, when my husband helped his mother change and settle into another room, I went back to ours. The stained sheets lay crumpled on the floor, and the smell of alcohol and blood filled the air.

I thought: so this is marriage. A test — from the very first day.