Page 203 of The Wright Man

But the longer I stood there, the harder it got to remember how to be calm.

All I could think about was every time he made me feel small.

Every time he twisted my words into weapons.

Every time I caught him lying and let him make me believe it was my fault for noticing.

Every time he said I was lucky he stayed.

I clenched my fists. Flexed them open. Tried breathing again, this time deeper. But it didn't help. The heat just rolled over me stronger.

I felt like lava.

Like a woman two seconds from laying waste to everything she touched.

I stared at the front door, that little red "Welcome" sign I bought on sale still hanging there like nothing was wrong. Like this wasn't a crime scene.

And I knew—if I stepped through that threshold, there would be no turning back.

No soft words. No clean goodbyes.

No more pretending we could do this the civil way.

I rolled my shoulders back. Stiffened my spine.

Fine. If this was the game he wanted to play? Let's fucking play.

I stormed up the walkway like a woman possessed, fury pounding behind my ribs with every step. Gravel crunched under my sneakers. My fists were tight, my breathing uneven, but I wasn't thinking. I was moving. I was done being quiet. Done being reasonable. Done being anything other than the full, unleashed version of myself Gavin always feared but swore didn't exist.

I reached the door and jammed my key into the lock. Turned it.

Nothing.

I tried again, harder.

Still nothing.

No. No no no no no.

He didn't.

I stepped back, chest heaving, the realization crashing over me like boiling water.

He changed the fucking locks.

That did it. The last thread holding me together snapped.

I started jamming the doorbell with the flat of my palm, over and over, holding it down until the chime inside stuttered like it was glitching. Then I beat on the door like it owed me money.

"GAVIN!" I screamed. "OPEN THE GODDAMN DOOR!"

Neighbors were probably already peeking. Let 'em. I didn't care. Let them see the aftermath of the lies they probably smiled at during block parties.

"GAVIN!"

I kept hitting the door, fuming and vibrating like I was about to short-circuit.

Finally, the door cracked open. Just a few inches.