Enough of blocking my path! Christopher swung his fist, ready to strike his wife.

Emily gasped and shielded her face with her arm, but Christopher couldn’t even touch her; their son, Oliver, appeared beside him, gripping his father’s hand tightly.

“Don’t you dare touch Mum!”

Christopher shot a stern glance at his son and swore under his breath. There was a time when he wouldn’t have hesitated to raise his hand against Oliver, but that was long gone. Now, in front of him stood a strong sixteen-year-old lad.

“Little pup!” Christopher muttered anyway.

“Get lost!” Oliver snapped back defiantly.

Christopher pounded his fist against the door frame and stormed out. Emily sobbed, hiding her face in her hands. Oliver awkwardly shuffled beside her; he had never figured out how to console a crying mother, but eventually, he wrapped his arms around her.

“Oh, Oliver, how are we supposed to keep going?”

Oliver understood his mother was asking how to deal with his father. Christopher had been drinking for years, and no matter how much Emily pleaded or cried, he kept choosing the bottle over his family.

“Mum, why don’t you just leave him?” Oliver asked, his tone grim.

“Are you serious? How could I leave Christopher? He’d be lost without me!”

Emily waved her hand dismissively, wiped her tear-streaked cheeks, and headed to the kitchen to prepare dinner. She knew Christopher would be home late, and his stomach would be grumbling in the morning, so she made an effort for him.

Oliver couldn’t grasp why his mother was still so devoted to his father. Just moments ago, the man had nearly harmed her, yet she continued to care for him. Why? What was the point of it all? Unable to contain himself, he walked into the kitchen and asked earnestly, “Mum, do you have any self-respect left?”

“What do you mean? Darling, he’s my husband! I can’t just leave him alone. Besides, dinner has to be made. I promised Christopher I’d be a loyal wife in any situation, and I intend to keep my word.”

“Mum, that’s just foolish! He doesn’t keep his promises! He made vows at our wedding too! Promised to love you and never hurt you. And look at what’s happening now!”

Oliver persistently referred to Christopher as “he” or by his name, refusing to acknowledge him as a father. He firmly believed that parents shouldn’t behave this way.

“Ollie, don’t judge your dad too harshly. He has his own problems, and he’s struggling. It happens.”

“Mum, that’s just an excuse! Everybody has problems! That doesn’t mean he should hit you or me and drink!”

Emily stood by the stove, letting her hands fall to her side. She knew Oliver was right and fully aware of the situation. Yet, she couldn’t bring herself to step back, to let go, or file for divorce. She still held on to the hope that, perhaps soon enough, Christopher would change, stop drinking, and love her and Oliver. But she’d been clinging to that hope for nearly ten years. And what had changed?

“Ollie, I need to think,” Emily said quietly.

Oliver thought there was nothing to ponder, but he held his tongue, seeing his mother truly reflecting on something.

He left to do his own thing, knowing that his father wasn’t likely to return anytime soon, which meant his mother was safe for the meantime. Oliver had long grown accustomed to protecting her, so it had become second nature to him, although he understood that it shouldn’t have been his duty. Christopher was only dangerous when he needed a drink, and when intoxicated, he was too lethargic to bother his wife and son.

Oliver spent the evening outside with his friends, practicing on the swings. He didn’t particularly want to go home, even as it grew dark and chilly. During the day, a t-shirt sufficed, but darkness brought the cold.

Wearing a thin sweater, he quickly grew cold and decided to head home, already knowing what awaited him there: a drunken father snoring on the living room sofa and a distressed mother in the kitchen.

Oliver raced up the stairs and froze in surprise. The door was ajar. This unsettled him because his mother always locked the door behind Christopher. Had something happened? Clenching his fists, Oliver stepped into the hallway, quietly pushing the door closed behind him.

“Mum, where are you? Is everything alright?”

He flicked on the light in the living room, not even considering that he might wake his father, but he was astonished to find the room empty. Christopher wasn’t in the bedroom either. This heightened his anxiety; he dashed to the kitchen, hoping his mother was there.

“Mum, are you here?” he called out, flicking the switch and cursing softly.

Emily lay on the floor, seemingly having hit her head on the countertop. She was unconscious, and Oliver sighed with relief when he realized she was still breathing.

“Hello, ambulance? Please come quickly, someone’s in trouble here,” Oliver struggled to gather his thoughts on what to say.

“What’s happened? Who’s in trouble?” came a rather disinterested voice.

“My mum’s been beaten… She’s unconscious, please hurry…”

Oliver provided the address, then called the police. He was determined not to let Christopher get away with this. How could anyone live peacefully knowing they laid hands on the weak? On those they were meant to protect?

Before long, Oliver was giving statements, while Emily regained consciousness, sitting quietly on the couch, trying to grasp what had happened. Oliver stole glances at her, and finally asked, “Mum, what happened?”

The police officer also regarded her closely. Until now, he hadn’t questioned Emily, noting her inability to respond, but now was the time to talk.

Emily slowly turned to her son and quietly said, “Ollie, please don’t be angry at your dad.”

“What? Mum, what on earth are you saying? Let him try to show his face here! What did he do to you? He shouldn’t have been back so soon!”

“Christopher forgot his money, and when he came back for it, I tried talking to him once again. Nothing worked, and he just got angrier.”

“Christopher!” Oliver spat out the name, contorting his face. He couldn’t understand how his mother could still refer to the man who had hurt her in such a familiar way.

“Ollie, your dad is a troubled man; he deserves sympathy.”

“No, Mum, he deserves nothing but hatred! I feel nothing for him.”

The officer grew tired of witnessing this family dispute. He’d been around such scenes before and suspected that the wife wouldn’t accuse her husband of wrongdoing.

“Will you be filing a complaint?”

“No!” Emily immediately raised her head, and the officer smirked. He didn’t expect anything else. But he hadn’t counted on Oliver already having a plan and watching his mother coldly.

“If you don’t file a complaint against Dad, he will come back here, and I’ll beat him up. They’ll take me away, and he’ll be hurt. Is that what you want? Do you want me in prison, and him incapacitated?”

Silence fell as Emily weighed her son’s words, realizing he spoke the truth. Christopher had crossed too many lines. Oliver interpreted her silence correctly and pressed on, “Mum, you’re tired of this too! You’re a young, beautiful woman! Why are you torturing yourself with this drinker? Get a divorce, throw him out, and let’s live normally!”

Emily looked intently at Oliver and suddenly grasped that he had grown up, weary of saving her from a drunken father. And Oliver was right—if Christopher wasn’t going to keep his promises, then why should she suffer trying to be a good wife?

The days when Christopher would apologize for his behavior were long over. Now, he considered drunken rants and insults to be the norm.

“I’ll file a complaint,” Emily said firmly, and Oliver smiled widely, pleased that he had finally reached her.

The officer raised an eyebrow in surprise. It was rare for battered women to take such a step against their husbands.

“Is there a way to protect us from him?” Emily asked in the meantime. “I wouldn’t want him interfering in our lives.”

“We’ll charge him with assault. This is a threat to your life; you nearly died, and your husband can’t just walk away from this.”

“Wonderful! Will I manage to get a divorce while he’s inside?”

“You’ll have time to remarry,” the officer chuckled.

Oliver beamed at his mother, thrilled to see her so decisive and businesslike. At long last, she shed the weight of Christopher and was becoming herself again!

“What are you smiling at?” Emily lightly smacked her son on the back of the head when they were finally alone. “And you, I’ll have words with you! Hanging about late at night!”

Oliver laughed, feeling no fear from such threats. Emily smiled too, looking at her son with warmth.

“Thank you for making me do this, darling. I wouldn’t have had the courage otherwise…”

Oliver said nothing in response; he simply gave his mother a bashful hug and scampered off to his room. He didn’t relish emotional outbursts, but deep down, he felt happiness.

Everything was finally on the mend. Oliver even promised himself that he would try harder in school and help his mother more. Now that Christopher was out of their lives, he found himself wanting to be home more often than before.

Emily blossomed, realizing she had no one to fear anymore. Christopher was taken into custody that same evening, and soon he was in a holding cell. Emily visited him only once, to say goodbye and inform him about the divorce. Of course, Christopher cried and begged for her forgiveness.

“I forgave you that evening,” Emily said. “But I no longer love you. Don’t come back to us. We’re starting a new life.”

She walked out of the prison and took a long stroll home, wanting time alone with her thoughts. The future felt light and carefree, and life was filled with vivid colors again. Emily regretted only one thing—she hadn’t left Christopher sooner.