Anna wanted to believe him.
She told herself that marriages required patience. She told herself that people sometimes made terrible mistakes. She remembered her mother’s warnings about divorce and the shame it might bring upon the family.
So she forgave him.
For a while, things improved.
Then it happened again.
And again.
The violence became unpredictable.
Sometimes, Thomas could go months without raising a hand against her. During those periods, Anna would begin to hope that the worst was over.
Then a trivial disagreement would set him off.
A meal that was not prepared the way he wanted.
A telephone call he had not approved.
A neighbor who had spoken to her for too long.
A question he considered disrespectful.
Anything could become an excuse.
“He always found a reason,” Anna whispered.
I could feel my hands trembling.
“Did you ever tell anyone?”
She shook her head.
“I tried once.”
