Chapter Three

I see my husband pulling into the bus stop, which was the little corner gas station down by my house. He smiles when he sees me. And I'm not going to lie, even through all this pain, I still get butterflies in my stomach. I still love the one person who is supposed to stick up for me and not let me be bullied. 

He gets out of the car and walks towards me, looking at the ground. I know he is feeling nervous about something. Being together so long, I can pick up on his moods by his body language. I know practically everything about him.

"These came in the mail today," he passed me the papers. 

I force a smile and nod. 

"Mother made me sign them already," he tells me. 

"Of course she would, she finally got her way, right?"

"But you don't have to sign them Hannah."

I feel the pain in my lower lip as I bite it, in aggravation. Trying to shut my mouth and trying to ignore these hurt feelings. He practically let his mom tell him to sign me away. Our life away, our marriage away, everything we build together. 

"Well, you already signed them, so I guess it's decided."

"You haven't?"

"What exactly do you want from me Dixon? To keep being treated like garbage? To keep letting her not only say negative things to my face, but speak bad about me with other people?

It literally took people coming to me with negative things that she says. She assumes because she hates me that everyone does. Sometimes you just talk to the wrong person, or the person you talk to tells the wrong person. Well, her gossip was getting back to me, and it took that much for Dixon to understand and see what his mom was doing.

"I know Hannah, you do what you have to do."

"Why don't you just cut your mother lose?"

"Why aren't you yours?" He yells at me this time, his voice showing more aggressive, and I know he was getting more upset. 

"Because mine doesn't treat you the way yours treats me."

"I'm going to sit back in the car Hannah." He passes me a thick white envelope of papers. Papers I believed I would never be signing. I thought we would be together forever and I would have a happy family.

 Then I see the big yellow bus stopping. My son is the only thing in my life that makes me happy. It is so confusing when the best thing in your life is attached to the worst decision of your life. But I look at that like a grain of salt. My child saved me from becoming a monster, from letting her hate overwhelm me. 

Mom he said, rushing and giving me a hug. I smile as his skin rubs against my face. He brings his lips to my cheek. 

"How was your day at school?"

"It was an exciting day and full of adventure." I hear the 8-year-old sarcasm in his voice.

"That bad?" I laugh.