After he had locked me out for several days, he came back once.
That night, I asked him, "Have you thought it over? About the divorce."
I didn't know if he had been angered outside or if those ladies hadn't served him well, but Steve lost his temper and shouted, "Shut up, you fool!"
By now, I had become immune to such insults and wouldn't panic like the first time I heard them.
I remember when he first called me a dumbass, I cried all night long.
I was devastated.
But after hearing it often enough, I became numb.
He didn't stop there and continued to insult me, "You stupid, homeless swine, what makes you think you can challenge me?"
In fact, I wasn't very fat. I was 5.4 feet tall and weighed 108 pounds.
Although I was eight pounds heavier than in college, I wasn't fat.
But he could always find a reason to insult me.
I quietly looked at him, my gaze falling on his suit pants pocket.
A piece of black lace, thin and semi-transparent, stuck out, attached to a slender string.
I knew what it was.
It must have been stuffed inside by some scheming woman.
I didn't try to placate Steve, nor did I have the energy to argue with him.