There was nothing for me there. I was tired of her. Tired of the yelling, the insults that cut deeper than knives, the way her hand would smack across my cheek without warning. I had lived with her abuse for so long that I couldn’t even remember what it was like to feel safe around her. And I wasn’t a child anymore—I was twenty-three. I had the right to choose where I wanted to be, and for the first time in my life, I chose myself. I chose peace.

Luca didn’t press me. He just nodded, ...