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I didn\u2019t scream. I didn\u2019t cry. I just stayed there, crumpled up, looking at him.<\/p>\n
And him? He just huffed, turned his back, and went upstairs, leaving his mother bleeding in the kitchen.<\/p>\n
The silence in the house after that was heavy, you know? The kind of quiet after something breaks and there\u2019s no fixing it.<\/p>\n
I went to the little half-bath mirror. I washed my face with cold water. I saw the cut on my lip, the start of a bruise on my cheek. In that moment, looking into my own eyes, I didn\u2019t see a victim.<\/p>\n
I saw the Gwendolyn who survived too much to put up with that.<\/p>\n
I decided right then and there, that was the last time.<\/p>\n
I went back to the kitchen, cleaned up the blood, and instead of going to bed to cry, I started cooking. It was the only thing I could do to keep from losing my mind.<\/p>\n