Marrying Him was an Inferno, Leaving Him was Heaven

When I was being stalked by a psycho, I called Carter Dillamond twenty times.

He finally picked up on the twenty-first call. I begged him, “Carter, someone’s following me! Come help me, please!”

But he sounded annoyed. “Can you grow up a little? I’m busy. Stop making things up.”

The moment he hung up, the attacker knocked me out, dragged me into an alley, and beat me until I was barely alive.

When I woke up in the hospital, Carter told me the man was mentally ill, that there was no way to hold him responsible, and that we could only settle.