I Walked Away—and Didn’t Look Back
Kenneth grabbed my arm.
Demanded explanations.
Threatened embarrassment. Ruin. Divorce.
I felt nothing.
“You never asked who I was before you,” I told him calmly.
“You told me where to stand. How to disappear.”
“I’m done.”
I left the gala.
I went to my mother’s house.
And for the first time in over a decade, I cried.
She held me and said the words I’d needed for years:
“Security without joy is just another kind of death.”
The next day, I told Kenneth I wanted a divorce.
When he threatened me with abandonment, I smiled.
“Then call your lawyer.”
I packed two suitcases.
My degrees.
My grandmother’s jewelry.
The silver locket.
And I left.
Read more on the next page ⬇️⬇️⬇️
