“Stable?” I repeated.

The word nearly made me laugh.

He had forced our son onto the street while secretly supporting another household for twelve years. He had monitored every dollar I spent while paying another woman’s rent and his second daughter’s tuition.

I finally understood that peace had never existed in our home. There had only been fear, obedience and Richard’s control.

“Caroline gave me the name of a lawyer,” I told him. “I contacted her last week because I already knew something was wrong. I’m filing for divorce.”

Richard lunged toward the documents.

I stepped between him and Ethan.

It was the same position I should have taken the day Richard placed that duffel bag beside our son’s chair.

But this time, I did not move aside.