Gabriel stood by the door watching me.
“You’re really leaving?” he asked, like he still didn’t understand what he had allowed.
I looked at him and said, “I didn’t leave because of your father. I left because you chose him over me.”
He stayed quiet. That silence said everything.
I continued, my voice steadier now, as if I was finally speaking after holding my breath for too long:
“You called this tradition. But tradition is supposed to protect a home, not destroy a woman’s dignity. And you… you watched it happen.”
His father appeared behind him in the hallway, trying to speak, but I didn’t even look at him anymore.
For the first time, I wasn’t afraid of either of them.
“I trusted you,” I said to Gabriel. “But trust dies the moment you let someone treat your wife like she doesn’t belong in her own bed.”
I picked up my bag and walked past them.
As I reached the door, Gabriel finally said, “Where will you go?”
I paused for a second, then answered without turning back:
“Anywhere that doesn’t call abuse a tradition.”
And I left.
That was the last time I ever stepped into that house.
