PART 1
That Tuesday began with Derek slamming drawers in our bedroom, furious over our credit card bill. He accused me of wasting money because I had bought groceries and an eighty-dollar gift for my sick mother. I tried to explain, but he did not care. To him, everything I did was wrong.Then he told me to get dressed. He said we were going to visit my mother.
But after twenty minutes, I realized we were driving the wrong way. Derek pulled up beside a lonely bus stop in a rough part of town.
“Get out,” he said.I froze. He grabbed my purse, took my wallet, my cash, my cards, and even my phone.
“You need to learn how to survive without depending on me,” he said coldly.Then he drove away.
For hours, I sat there alone, scared, thirsty, and humiliated. Buses came and went, but I had no money to board. I kept wondering how my marriage had turned into this.
As the sun began to set, an elderly blind woman approached with a white cane. She sat beside me and gently asked why I had been crying.Her name was Catherine Wilmington. And after I told her everything, she said one sentence that changed me:
Olivia, what your husband did today is abuse.”
