Chapter 2 â The Line That Could Never Be Crossed Again
I didn't yell.
I didn't argue.
I simply walked across the kitchen, took Anna's trembling hand, and gently pulled her behind me.
For the first time in months, she didn't hesitate.
She collapsed against my back, quietly crying as one hand protected our unborn daughter.
My mother folded her arms.
"Oh, don't be dramatic," she scoffed. "She refused to finish the dishes. I was teaching her responsibility."
I looked at the sink.
The water was still running.
Anna's fingers had turned pale from the freezing water.
The broken plate lay scattered across the tile floor.
Then I noticed something that made my stomach twist.
Tiny drops of blood mixed with the water near the drain.
Anna had cut her hand.
She hadn't even told me.
I reached over and turned off the faucet.
The silence became unbearable.
"Pack a bag," I told Anna softly.
She looked at me in disbelief.
"What?"
"You're leaving this house tonight."
My mother's face hardened.
"You wouldn't dare."
I slowly turned toward her.
"No."
"I should have done it months ago."
Her confident smile vanished.
"You'd throw your own mother out over that woman?"
I held her stare.
"I'm choosing my wife."
"I'm choosing my child."
"And I'm choosing the family I promised to protect."
Anna burst into tears.
May you like
Not because she was afraid anymore.
Because someone had finally chosen her.
