Later that day, we took my mother to a local clinic so her injuries could be formally evaluated.
The doctor documented the serious facial bruising, took medical photographs, and issued a written diagnostic report.
Immediately after leaving the clinic, we went to the precinct and filed an official criminal complaint regarding the assault.
Mom sat with her hands in her lap, looking crushed by guilt.
“I feel so terrible, darling,” she whispered. “I never wanted to destroy your marriage.”
I put my arms around her.
“You didn’t destroy anything, Mom. He did all of this by himself.”
The second those words left my mouth, I realized how many years I had spent making excuses for Brandon.
Whenever he became controlling, I told myself he was stressed from work.
When he complained about my mother, I convinced myself he just needed more personal space.
When he wasted money, I told myself he was simply enjoying the rewards of working hard.
