My palm still stung from slapping Natalie, but watching her stunned expression was worth every bit of pain. For five years, I'd swallowed her venom, endured her cruelty with silent dignity. No more.
"Stay away from me," I warned, my voice steadier than I'd thought possible. "Or next time, it won't just be a slap."
Her perfectly manicured hand flew to her reddened cheek, eyes wide with shock before narrowing to slits. "You'll regret this," she hissed, backing toward the door. "Julian will hear about this."
"Tell him," I replied coolly. "I don't care anymore."
After she stormed out, I released a shaky breath. My heart hammered against my ribs, but beneath the adrenaline rush was something I hadn't felt in years – satisfaction. Pure, undiluted satisfaction.
I finished gathering my belongings one-handed, the bandage on my injured hand a stark reminder of yesterday's disaster. As I left the hospital room, I couldn't help but smile. For once, I'd fought back.
