Chapter 3 - The Sledgehammer’s Justice
I felt around the floor with my fingertips,
ignoring the spiders and the grime.
My hand brushed against something heavy and cold,
a piece of steel that felt like a gift from the universe.
It was a sledgehammer,
left behind by the crew that had been renovating the hallway.
I gripped the handle,
the weight of it solid and reassuring in my palms.
I stood up,
planting my feet firmly on the ground.
I didn't scream this time.
I didn't beg.
I swung the hammer with every ounce of pain I had stored over five years.
The first blow hit the wood near the latch,
sending a vibration up my arms that felt like a heartbeat.
"Stop that!"
Gavin shouted,
his voice filled with sudden alarm.
"I’ll break your legs if you damage that door!"
I didn't answer him.
I swung again.
The wood splintered,
a crack appearing near the iron hinges.
I heard Harriet gasping in the hallway,
her composure finally slipping.
"Gavin, do something!"
she shrieked.
"She’s gone mad!"
The third blow was the one that broke the world.
The iron latch flew off the frame,
the wood shattered into a thousand pieces,
and the door swung open on one hinge.
I stepped out into the hallway,
covered in the dust of my own cage.
My hair was a mess,
my lip was swollen and purple,
and the sledgehammer was still gripped in my white-knuckled hands.
Gavin backed away,
his face pale,
his bravado evaporating like mist in the sun.
Harriet pressed herself against the wall,
clutching her silk robe as if it could protect her from the truth.
I looked at them both,
and for the first time in my life,
I felt taller than them.
"Touch me again,"
I said,
my voice a low,
deadly calm.
"And I will show you exactly what five years of patience looks like."
I walked to the kitchen table and set the sledgehammer down with a heavy thud.
I picked up my purse,
which Gavin had tossed near the sink.
"From this moment on,"
"I am no longer your wife,"
I told him,
staring directly into his coward’s eyes.
"I am the woman who is going to take everything back."
"Every dollar you stole from my paycheck,"
"every blow you gave me,"
"and every minute of my mother's life you tried to steal."
I walked out of the apartment,
the cool night air hitting my face like a blessing.
I didn't look back.
May you like
I called a car and began the long,
tearful drive to Macon.
