Chapter 13 - Choosing Emma
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That single, devastating sentence stayed with me for the rest of the day.
Then why should you?
For eleven years, I had completely convinced myself that enduring Caleb’s cruelty was a noble sacrifice. I thought I was protecting Emma by keeping her father in the house. I thought I was being a good mother by maintaining the illusion of a happy, perfect family.
But as I stared at the ceiling that night, the horrifying truth finally washed over me. By staying, I wasn't protecting Emma at all. I was teaching her. I was teaching her that love meant walking on eggshells. I was teaching her that a woman’s pain was an inconvenience. I was setting a terrifying blueprint for her future relationships, virtually guaranteeing she would end up with a man exactly like Caleb.
I couldn't let that happen.
The next morning, I asked the nurses for my phone. I didn't call Caleb. I called a highly recommended divorce attorney the hospital social worker had gently suggested.
When the lawyer answered, I didn't hesitate. I didn't apologize for taking up her time.
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"My name is Rebecca Carter," I said, my voice stronger than it had been in over a decade. "I am currently recovering in the trauma ward at City General. My husband assaulted me yesterday, and he is barred from the premises. I need to file for divorce, and I need emergency full custody of my daughter."
Hanging up the phone, a massive weight lifted off my crushed ribs. The physical pain was still agonizing, but my spirit was finally, miraculously free.
