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Owen has never been so aggressive with me before but the bruises on my arms this morning are proof of just how desperate he was last night.

It’s odd.

On one hand, there is the man I’ve been in a relationship with for the last two years and I never would have dreamed him capable of hurting me. But the Owen I saw last night feels like a completely different person.

Or maybe he was there all along.

Maybe I was the one who changed because I couldn’t keep doing this shit anymore.

God, what would he have done if he had managed to get his hands on me again? The thought sends a shiver down my spine.

I don’t know that man.

And it’s honestly kind of terrifying.

Letting out a sigh, I rub my hand across my forehead, hoping to ease the headache building behind my eyes. The past twelve hours feel like a damn fever dream and I’m more than ready to wake the hell up. Spending some time in the bakery this morning was a nice reprieve. I got to feel the sunlight on my skin as it filtered in through the large picture window and smell the warm, rich scents of coffee and pastries.

But it’s over now.

Time to get back to my new reality.

Last night, while I was lying in bed, unable to sleep, I just kept making a list in my head of everything I needed to do today to fully separate my life from Owen’s. The lease to the apartment is in his name only.

God, I was so pissed when he did that, saying that he was the ‘man of the house’.

What a fucking joke.

I’m so damn grateful for it now, though.

My phone pings with a new voicemail and I blow out a breath, glancing down at my phone as I close the apartment door behind me. My eyes widen as I stare at the numbers on the screen.

Twenty-three missed calls.

Sixteen voicemails.

And eighty-three unread texts.

For fuck’s sake.

Lord knows if the man had put this much effort into getting a new job or cleaning up after himself, I’d probably still be with him.

I shudder.

Despite how fucking crazy these past twelve hours have been and the bullshit I already know is waiting for me on my phone, I don’t regret my decision.

In fact, I regret not doing it sooner.

I only slept a measly four hours last night but I woke up this morning feeling brighter and more myself than I have in months. As soon as I decided I was done, relief rushed through me like nothing I’ve ever felt before.

Except for maybe the day I finally got away from my mother.

I snort out a laugh.

How fitting.

Stepping into my new living room, I stop and suck in a breath as I look around the space. There is something so damn freeing about the fact that this place is all mine. I could leave, go to work, walk to the bookstore down the street just to browse and when I came home, everything would be exactly as I left it.

It makes me fucking giddy.