She might have told herself she would leave. She might have even packed once. But fear is a clever thing. It does not scream; it whispers.
Ellis used to laugh easily. With small and big dreams — a walk in the park, a late-night Milo, a family dinner, a successful career. But now she spends her mornings measuring her words, her evenings measuring his moods. Every silence a verdict.
What is most cruel is that he was not always cruel. Sometimes, he would apologise, touch her hair — it was she who made him angry, she should understand him better. Every cruel word was followed by a tender apology, every wound wrapped in the illusion of love. Did she believe him? It matters not — she chooses to believe because the alternative was not an option for her.
