I looked at her from across the coffee table. She had always been there for me, but this was hard for me to say.

“Brian hit me last night,” I finally said, then closed my eyes.

Her reaction was what I expected. She shouted and stood. “What do you mean he hit you?”

I explained to her how we had been fighting, and he reached across the dinner table and slapped me.

“Madeline, that’s not normal. You need to leave him.”

“I can’t,” I explained without explaining, not making eye contact with her.

“Or what? He’ll kill you?”

I nodded.

She nodded back. “Then, you do what you have to do.”

I looked at her, wondering why she was smiling. What I have to do? That would be …

“It _would_ be easier without him,” I admitted, looking at our wedding photo by the front door and feeling only anger.

“I know a guy,” she said, winking and pulling out her phone. “Discreet. And your secret is safe with me.”

I knew it would be. I had done a similar thing for her once.