That was the last visit. Cathy left the prison gates and strode away, giant confident steps, her shoulders back and her head held high. She left behind her ex-husband and abuser. 

Peter was a crumpled mess, tears streaming down his face, head resting on the table that separated them. Small pools of salty tears wiped from the table and a tissue to clean his dripping nose. How had he let her go. What would he do now? Cathy had filed for a divorce and was cutting herself free. 

Peter loved her, every bit. He was a jealous man and throughout the marriage had watched her every move. The money she spent; the way she applied her make up; the cooking and cleaning and the way she flirted with the other men. He watched all of it and controlled it. When she was a bad girl she was punished. Years of training. To help her. To make her perfect. Did she not see that?  It was all for her. He didn’t want to lock her in the room. He didn’t want to force her to do those things she hated. He didn’t want to hit her with his fist or cut her with a knife, but she had to learn.  Now it was all gone. 

Cathy got into her car and pulled away from the prison gates. With each passing mile she felt better and better. Lighter in fact, so light she was floating. It was a long journey home. The new home far away from Peter, a place where he could never find her.

She pulled into the drive and skipped inside the house. Upstairs she had a shower to wash Peter away for the final time. As the soap lathered her legs she watched as her hands rubbed and the water rinsed it away, exposing the scars or her legs. As she saw each one she remembered its origin. The time when moments before that skin had been smooth and pure. With each one she smiled, he wouldn’t do it any more. Her hands moved to her stomach and the long scar across her midriff, nasty argument. It took a month to heal that one physically and years of mental anguish, but as with the others the pain was gone.

Sitting at the dressing table, Cath rubbed the cream into her face. It was still sensitive to the touch. Burns caused by the fire she set herself to escape him. The fire brigade took too long to get to her and her face would never return to its former glory. She smiled at herself, this was her and she loved it. More importantly Dave loved it too. From the moment they got together after his brother was sent to prison he had always said those words. They changed her life for ever. It was written in the card, whispered to her daily and every syllable filled with sincerity.

“Cathy, I love you. It is all of you that’s important. Your mind, your kindness, your generosity, your loving caring nature. To me you are the most beautiful person I have ever known.”

It was the last sentence that meant everything to her, and now she was free to be beautiful once more.