When I got back to the house, I was as quiet as I could be. If Robby was asleep, I didn't want to risk waking him up and having another confrontation. If I could rely on his usual pattern of violence, we'd be okay for a few days now, maybe even a few weeks. That was how our vicious cycle usually went. After one of our knock down, drag out blow ups, he'd turn into the perfect gentleman again, catering to me and spoiling me for days until something else I did pissed him off.

Until tonight, we'd been having a good few weeks. Separating my shoulder shook him up a bit, and he'd spent the next few weeks apologizing profusely and trying to make it up to me. I thought maybe that was his wake up call. He'd even taken me to Italy for a week, where we spent the days wandering the streets and shops, sampling the food and the wine. Our nights were spent under the stars and making passionate love to each other. Robby wanted another baby, and with the way things were going, he could have easily convinced me. That was the thing about Robby and I. When we were good, we were incredible and deliriously happy, but when we were bad, we were toxic and horrifying.

We met in a Public Policy class at Hudson. I noticed him sitting in the very back room of the lecture hall a few times over the course of the semester, but one day right before Thanksgiving break, I was early to class, going over my essay before I had to turn it in.

"Is this seat taken?" I heard a deep voice next to me, interrupting my thoughts.

"No, go ahead." I didn't even really look up at the stranger, keeping my attention focused on the last additions to the paper I was trying to write. I hadn't noticed that nearly every other seat in the entire room was open.

"Thanks." I glanced up as he set his stuff down, settling in next to me. "I'm Robby. Robby Hastings."

"Camryn." I said, disinterested. I was coming off of a heavy break up, and the last thing I wanted to do was make small talk with another spineless frat boy who would only leave me unsatisfied. In every sense of the word.

"Camryn... That's unusual." He grinned, propping his feet up on the chair in front of him. "Is this your first class with Dr. Fletcher?"

Realizing this guy would not give up, I finally shut my laptop and turned my full attention to him.

He was the kind of handsome that took your breath away. Mysterious. Experienced. Just out of reach.

A mischievous grin curled on his lips, highlighting a pair of perfectly set dimples that gave me a bit of a playful impression. He had touseled, sandy-blonde hair with just a hint of facial hair trimming his jawline, and his icy blue eyes held me in an intense stare. He was gorgeous and carried himself with a powerful air that nearly swept me away, and for the life of me, I couldn't figure out how I'd caught his attention.

Robby leaned forward, subtly closing the distance between us, and my breath hitched.

"Who?" I stuttered. Jesus, what was wrong with me? I was never one to swoon over guys like this.

Robby smirked, clearly amused. "Dr. Fletcher... The guy teaching this class."

"Oh. Right." I bit my lip, trying to hide my embarrassment. "Yes, this is my first class with him."

"Are you a political science major?" He continued. If he noticed my discomfort, he didn't show it.

"Yes." I nodded. "It's my first year."

"Freshman, huh?" He shot me a killer smile. "Don't worry, it gets easier. I'm a junior. We have to observe some of the intro courses for a project we're doing. I'm glad I chose this one."

Robby and I chatted for a few more minutes. By the time class started, I knew he was the youngest of three kids and had two older sisters. He grew up just down the road from here, and his father was running for the Senate. That was why he'd chosen the political science route himself, but his dream was to be a homicide detective. I also knew that he was the most charming guy I'd ever met and was used to getting what he wanted, and if I made it out of this conversation unscathed, it would be a minor miracle.

Luckily, we made it through class with just a few stolen glances. Every time I looked up, he'd be staring back at me, biting on his lip as he tapped a pen against the woodgrain desk. After class, he took me to get a cup of coffee and the rest was pretty much history.

I fell so hard and fast for Robby Hastings that I never stood a chance. And those first few years were absolute bliss. He was perfect, and he swept me right off of my feet. Treated me like a queen, doted on me and constantly raved about how brilliant I was when we were in public. He asked my opinions about his work, and truly took them to heart instead of just brushing it off.

No matter where we were, he always had to be touching me, whether it was a reassuring hand on the small of my back, or his arm draped over my shoulders, holding me close. He had a special way of noticing all the details about me, and would show up out of the blue with coffee or my favorite pastry from the bakery on campus. He helped me with my schoolwork, and he'd randomly clean my apartment or do my dishes, even before we were living together. He took me to hockey games and comedy shows and all kinds of broadway plays with our friends and on extravagant getaways with his family. We just fit together as if we'd been made for each other and been doing this our whole lives. I'd never been happier and despite my parents' protests, we got married just as soon as I finished college.

Looking back, it was all too good to be true and my parents must have sensed that long before I did. It didn't happen all at once, but looking back, I could see signs I should have paid attention to all along. The way he kept hold of me in public wasn't romantic—it was possessive. If I ever even spoke to another guy, it would turn into a fight. When I had Riley, he didn't want me to go back to work, insisted I stay home and raise our daughter.

Robby controlled everything about our lives—financially, sexually, and socially. He made all of our money and, if I wanted to go shopping, I had to okay it with him first. We rarely saw my parents, but if we missed Sunday dinner with his family, it was as if the world was ending. And sex was completely on his terms; I was at his beck and call. So much so that if he wanted to have rough and wild sex, he'd have me take Riley to his parents so we could, no matter the time of day. In the beginning, I loved he was still so attracted to me, but I started to see it was all just about the control.

He brushed all of this off, saying it was because he loved me so much, and like a fool, I believed him. Whenever we'd fight and it got particularly bad, he'd apologize profusely and promise to never act that way again. He'd shower me with lavish and expensive gifts, each one getting more and more extravagant. And each time, it would be good for a while. And then he'd snap again.

It wasn't until the first time it got physical that I saw our relationship for what it was. Before I realized it wasn't normal to fight the way did. Before I realized I'd almost entirely lost my own identity. Before I realized that all the money in the world couldn't change things between us. Before I realized that Riley and I might be in serious danger.

What could I do, though? His father was a state senator and Robby himself was a detective. I could never call the police because the police were his friends, and they'd never believe me if I told them what was happening. In fact, no one did except for that damn ER doctor, and I didn't even tell him.

It worried me, because maybe I wasn't as good at hiding the abuse as I once was. I couldn't run; he'd isolated me from everyone in my family and all of my friends were the wives of his friends. I was on my own. Everything I had was tied to the Hastings in some way, and ultimately tied me to Robby.

I wasn't entirely innocent in this. When Robby got escalated, so did I. Our fighting was mutual and while he always had the upper hand, I always egged him on. And in a way, I felt like I deserved it. He'd given me an incredible life filled with everything I could ask for, and yet I still wasn't happy. It still wasn't enough. If I could just be a better wife, none of this would happen.

I guess I got lulled into a false sense of security over the last few weeks and he'd caught me totally off guard. Our fight was about the way he unloaded the dishwasher. I asked him if he remembered where the blue Tupperware bowl was so that I could put some leftovers away, and somehow that spiraled into me not being grateful for the life he'd given me. He took the beer bottle he was drinking from—his eighth of the night — and smashed it against my temple.

Blood immediately started pouring out from the cut, and I think it caught him off guard. He dropped the rest of the bottle to the ground, stumbling back and looking at me with wide eyes. Without saying a word, he left the room and went upstairs, and I heard our bedroom door slam.

I sat there for a few minutes, trying to gain my bearings before I made it into the bathroom. There was a lot of blood, and the cut was definitely deep enough to need stitches. I grabbed a wet washcloth and pressed it to my forehead, cleaning it up as best as I could, and then headed to the ER across town. Apparently now I was going to have to find a new one because that ER doctor was onto my game. I knew was trying to help, but it would only make things worse.

I went into the kitchen, and was surprised to see that Robby cleaned up the glass and blood. Normally, it was my job to clean up whatever mess he made after one of his outbursts. We had a maid, but he obviously didn't want her to see any evidence, so it fell on me.

I headed upstairs, stopping for a second to peek into Riley's room. She was peacefully sleeping in her bed, oblivious to anything that happened tonight.

Robby's one saving grace was his love for Riley. He was a remarkably good father, and would never hurt her. She was everything to him, and if he had it his way, we'd have a few more. I couldn't stand the thought of bringing more children into this chaos, though. Riley might not be on the receiving end of Robby's blows, but it was still detrimental to her. It was a toxic environment, and it was getting harder and harder to deny it was affecting her.

Shutting the door quietly so I didn't wake her up, I headed down the hall towards the room I shared with Robby, saying a silent prayer that he was asleep. I knew I could just go sleep in the guestroom, but that would only infuriate him more.

I froze when I opened the door, and Robby was sitting on the bed. He looked shaken, almost genuinely remorseful, when he saw me.

"Cam." He let out a heavy sigh of relief as he stood up. "I'm so sorry."

I bit my lip, trying to decide how to respond. "I don't really want to talk about it tonight, Robby. I'm exhausted. Can we please just go to bed?"

Robby nodded frantically. "We can do whatever you want. Is your head okay? Can I get you Advil or ice or something?"

"I just need to lie down." I grabbed some pajamas out of the drawer.

"Whatever you want, babe."

I wasn't used to so much remorse from him, and while it was unexpected, it was a nice change. Usually it wasn't until at least the next day that he tried to apologize.

Robby followed me around like a sick puppy as I got ready for bed and when I got underneath the covers, he curled up next to me, draping his arm over me. It felt disgusting to be lying with him like this after the evening we'd had. Surprisingly though, we just laid there, and he held onto me as he fell asleep.

"I promise, I'm going to stop drinking, baby. I never want to hurt you like this again. I'm so sorry, Cam." He whispered against my ear.

I didn't answer, just bit my lip to fight back the tears. How had my life gotten to this point?

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***If you or someone you know is experiencing domestic violence of any kind, please reach out to someone in your community. In the US, that number is 1-800-799-7233**