A few minutes later, the back door opened.
I flinched before I could stop myself.
But it was my father.
He stepped outside slowly, his face calm again, though his eyes carried something heavy. Not victory. Not rage. Something deeper.
Understanding.
“Are you okay?” he asked.
It was such a simple question.
And somehow, it broke me.
I could not remember the last time someone had asked me that and truly meant it.
I opened my mouth, but no words came out. My throat tightened, and every feeling I had buried for years began rising at once.
“I thought…” I whispered, barely able to breathe. “I thought this was normal.”
My father shook his head gently.
“No, sweetheart,” he said. “You only learned to tolerate what should have never been accepted.”
Those words struck me harder than Derek’s cruelty ever had.
Because deep down, I knew they were true.
