Page 190 - It Ends with Us

“When you ran after me last ni ght , I swea r I ha d no int ent ion of

hu rting you. I was upset and ang ry. And somet imes when I feel tha t
much emotion, somet hi ng inside of me just sna ps. I don’t rem em ber
the moment I pushed you. But I kno w I did. I di d. All I was thi nk ing
when you were runni ng after me was ho w I need ed to get away from
you. I want ed you out of my way. I didn’t proces s tha t there were stairs
around us. I didn’t proces s my streng th compared to yours. I fucked

up, Lily. I fucked up.”
He lowers hi s mouth to my ea r. His voice cracks when he says, “You
are my wife. I’m supposed to be the one who protec ts you from the
mons ters . I’m no t supposed to be one. ” He ho lds me with so much
des pera tion, he beg ins to shake. I ha ve nev er, in all my life, fel t so
much pain radiating from one hu man.
It brea ks me. It rips me apart from the ins ide out. All my hea rt

want s to do is wrap tight ly around hi s.
But ev en with ev er ythi ng he just told me, I’m still fig ht ing my own
forgivenes s. I swore I wouldn’t let it ha ppen again. I swore to hi m and
to mysel f tha t if he ev er hu rt me again, I would lea ve.
I pull away from hi m, una ble to look hi m in the ey e. I walk toward
my bed room to try and take a moment to just catch my brea th. I close

my bathroom door behi nd me and grip the sink , but I can’t ev en
stand up. I end up sliding to the floor in a hea p of tea rs.
Thi s isn’t ho w thi s was supposed to be. My who le life, I knew
ex actly wha t I’d do if a man ever trea ted me the way my father trea ted
my mother. It was simple. I would lea ve and it would nev er ha ppen
again.
But I didn’t leav e. And no w, here I am with bruises and cuts on my

body at the ha nd s of the man who is supposed to love me. At the
ha nd s of my own hu sband .
And still, I’m trying to justify wha t ha ppened .
It was an ac cide nt. He tho ught I was che at ing on hi m. He was hu r t an d
an gr y an d I got in hi s way.
I bring my ha nds to my face and I sob, bec ause I feel more pain for

tha t man out there, kno wing wha t he went thro ugh as a chi ld, tha n I
feel for mysel f. And tha t does n’t make me feel sel fles s or strong . It
makes me feel pathet ic and wea k. I’m supposed to ha te hi m. I’m
supposed to be the woman my mother was nev er strong eno ugh to be.