Tyler looked at me like I’d betrayed him. I held his gaze. “I finally learned,” I said. “Love that keeps handing you money after you hit me isn’t love. It’s training. I won’t train you to hurt the next woman who tells you no.” He left with the bags. The locks were changed that afternoon. I still cook breakfast on that tablecloth. Now it’s for people who don’t make me lock my own bedroom door. A mother can forgive a lot. She does not have to keep the door open while she does it.