Sophia’s P.O.V

I let the tears come then. I didn’t sob. I just sat there, silent, as they streamed down my face. It felt like mourning a death I hadn’t prepared for—the death of a love I had protected with everything I had.

“Please,” she whispered. “Divorce him. Sue his ass if you have to. But don’t stay because of fear disguised as loyalty.”

My heart cracked all over again. I was terrified. Not of him hurting me again—I knew how to hide the ...