On the first day of our marriage, my husband threw a greasy dishcloth in my face and said, “From now on, you’re my family’s maid.” I smiled, left my wedding ring on the table, and walked out with my suitcase.

I dragged my heavy suitcase down the stairs, making a loud noise that brought everyone into the hallway.

Brenda paled immediately when she saw the suitcase in my hand.

“What on earth does this mean?” she asked in a sharp voice.

“You are absolutely right,” I said calmly as I adjusted my grip on my bag. “I should not be living for free at your house, so I will simply stop living here.”

Brandon stood up suddenly from the couch, his face turning red with anger.

“Do not make a stupid scene in front of my parents,” he threatened. “Go back upstairs, unpack your suitcase right now, and apologize to us.”

“No, I will not do that,” I replied instantly.

He tried to grab my arm aggressively, but I backed away before he could touch me.

“If you cross that door today, you won’t come back,” he yelled at me.