“You stayed because you loved him and kept hoping he would become who he pretended to be,” Ruth said. “That is not a crime. That is what abuse does. It turns love into a lever and patience into a prison.”
Vivien looked away. “I still built the prison.”
“No,” Ruth said. “You built a house. He turned it into a cage.”
That afternoon Gloria called from Dayton.
“Baby,” she said without preamble, “the world cheers when a woman survives a monster. Then the second she stands up too straight afterward, they accuse her of enjoying it. Don’t go borrowing guilt from people who weren’t in your kitchen.”
Vivien pressed a hand over her mouth and let herself cry.
Thirty minutes later, Benedict called.
His tone told her before his words did that the next battle had arrived.
“Preston’s attorney filed emergency motions,” he said. “Entrapment. Conspiracy. Fraudulent inducement of marriage due to concealment of identity.”
Vivien felt a cold sweep through her chest.
“That’s not all,” Benedict added. “He also filed an anticipatory custody petition regarding your unborn daughter.”
It took a second for the words to register.
Then the baby kicked so sharply that Vivien doubled over.
“He wants my daughter?”