while someone calls you difficult for defending the life you built.
Sometimes love means opening the door.
And sometimes survival means changing the locks.
Late one night, Linda sat in her chair with tea in her hands and Robert’s photograph back where it belonged. The blue vase caught the lamplight on the dining table. The apartment was quiet, but it was not lonely in the same way anymore.
It was hers.
Fully.
Finally.
And if Sarah ever stood outside that door again, key in hand, expecting it to open, she would learn the same lesson twice.
Some women do not scream when they take their power back.
They simply lock the door.
