“What did you do?”
“I walked away.”
“And you took the shoe?”
“In your wedding dress?”
“Yes.”
“And you took the shoe?”
“He shoved it into my hands and said, ‘Fine. Carry it until you’re ready to act like my wife.'”
I had to set my mug down.
Tina kept going.
“He drove beside me slowly.”
“He followed me in the car.”
My chest tightened.
“What do you mean followed?”
“He drove beside me slowly.”
“What was he saying?”
“That I was making a scene. That people were looking. That I was humiliating him.”
“No. He just kept telling me to get in.”
“Did he threaten you?”
“No. He just kept telling me to get in.”
“Did you?”
“No.”
“Why not?”
She started crying harder.
That was the moment I stopped thinking about how ridiculous the situation sounded.
“Because I was humiliated.”
That was the moment I stopped thinking about how ridiculous the situation sounded.
She said, “He drove off when I reached the bus stop. He said he’d meet me at home then.”
“And that’s when you called me?”
She nodded.
All month, Eric had called our closeness dependence.
“I didn’t know who else he’d believe I wasn’t asking permission from.”
