Bradley looked at the mark on my face. “If you want to file a police report for assault, I can help with documentation.”
“I will,” I said.
Diane covered her mouth. “Think about the baby. A public scandal will follow that child forever.”
“I am thinking about my child. That’s why I refuse to normalize violence and fraud.”
Outside, a taxi pulled up. Light streamed through the chapel doors.
My legs were shaking as I walked out, but I didn’t stop. Behind me, Brittany was sobbing. Scott was arguing with Bradley in a low, frantic voice. Diane didn’t move.
Before getting into the taxi, I turned back.
“If you want redemption, tell the truth and accept the consequences. Stop blaming me.”
No one answered.
When the taxi pulled away, I finally let myself cry. I had lost my husband in a sudden accident that still didn’t feel real. But I hadn’t lost myself.
The grief would take time. The legal mess ahead would be long and public. But staying silent would have cost me more than speaking up ever could.
As the city lights flickered on, I rested my hand on my stomach and made a promise. My child would grow up in a life built on honesty, not fear.
