“Where are you?”
I told her the restaurant’s name.
She arrived twenty minutes later and found me sitting near the entrance with a borrowed coat around my shoulders.
When she saw my dress, she stopped walking.
“Oh, Hannah.”
She wrapped her arms around me.
I finally allowed myself to cry.
Not because I regretted calling the police.
Because I was grieving the marriage I had spent years trying to save.
Olivia took me to her apartment.
She gave me dry clothes, made tea, and listened while I explained everything.
When I finished, she asked a question I hadn’t considered.
“Do you feel safe going home?”
I thought about Spencer’s expression when he realized the cameras might have recorded him.
I remembered his threat outside the restaurant.
“No,” I admitted.
“Then don’t go back tonight.”
I agreed.
The following morning, I contacted a family lawyer named Claire Bennett.
I explained what had happened and asked about my options.
