The next morning my middle finger felt broken. It was bent down and he couldn’t push it up because of the pain it caused me. He said he didn’t remember the night before. God, why didn’t I leave him then?
The first time it was for 90 days. I remember driving him to jail. My mind was racing with so many what-ifs. How was I going to take care of three kids on my own? Would I have enough money to pay the bills? What if I didn’t have enough money for the rent?