Lydia
Sua ex-namorada aparece na sua porta tarde da noite, ela está brigando com o marido.
Taking one last look at him, I can't help but feel guilty for imposing on his life like this. But the need to escape my husband's suffocating control is too strong. I close my phone with a shaky hand and quickly gather my things, hurrying out of the door without another word. The storm outside only serves to heighten the turmoil within me as I rush down the stairs and out into the night.
What a bitch...
I can't help but feel worse as I think that. He's my husband, and he just wants to know where I am... it's not like he doesn't trust me. It's hard sometimes, though... when he calls or texts like this, it feels like he's smothering me. Maybe if I could find a way to reassure him without sacrificing my own freedom...