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My husband beat me for refusing to live with my mother-in-law, then he calmly went to bed like nothing had happened. The next morning, he brought me some makeup and said, “My mother’s coming for lunch. Cover all that up and smile.” But when they came home at noon, his clothes and luggage were scattered across the lawn—because the house had never been his. It was mine. – True Stories

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I still wore red lipstick.

Not to cover anything.

To remember that my mouth had finally saved me.

 

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