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It all ended like a death, the death of a fairytale life with the man I fell in love with. I imagined him holding me in his arms the night of our honeymoon and waking up the next morning to breakfast in bed, followed by a walk on the beach, but that never happened. The honeymoon was over before it started. Instead of feeling his gentle hands around me, I felt the harshness of his clutching fingers around my neck and and the forcefulness of the brick wall slamming against the back of my head. In that moment, his eyes penetrated mine with a look of hatred that I had never seen before. Who was this man and how did he come to despise my very being, when just that very morning he promised to love me and protect me forever?

He was like Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hide the day of our wedding. He doted on me the entire morning of the wedding, and then, once we reached our honeymoon destination, he choose to watch sports on TV in the motel room. I decided to take a long relaxing walk on the beach and stop by the teki bar on my way back to the room, where I was sure he would be waiting for me. Instead, he had been watching my every move. Without knowing, he followed me and spied on me from a distance. I never felt those piercing eyes and never imagined what was to happen next.

I stopped at the teki bar on my way back and while waiting for my drink, I noticed a group of athletes. They had just competed in a local triathlon. I was an athlete myself and often competed in triathlons, so it was easy to pick up on their conversation. I had envied their excitement of a good race and decided to ask them a few questions about the race route. It was at that moment that I felt a tug on my arm. A quick jerk to right forced me to be face to face with my bridegroom. He said "I need to talk with you" and he forced me to walk with him. Once out of the sight of onlookers, he began screaming at me. He accused me of flirting with strangers, even though I was standing beside a female athlete at the bar. He made it clear that I was his wife and I better never go out looking for company again. If he wanted to watch tv, then I better sit and watch it with him. It was even clearer that he was calling all the shots now. I cried, the pain was real. My heart hurt worse then the bruises he inflicted on me that night.

I survived that night and many other nights to follow. I had been verbally, sexually and physically abused by him. I nearly lost the child we had created together during one of his "I'll never

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