When I came home after nine months on the road, the first thing I noticed was the coffee Gloria had left in my blue travel mug. Beside it sat a yellow legal pad with my name across the top. Underneath were three lines: “2:13 a.m. He checks the back door. Do not argue alone.” Gloria stood in the hallway and claimed the notes were mine, but the handwriting clearly wasn’t. As I read further, I found dates and accusations about calls and threats. I knew where I had been on every date because my truck receipts and motel records proved it. Then I saw a purple card from the Raymore women’s shelter on her dresser.

Gloria admitted she had needed information about getting away from me. I was hurt, but I also knew I hadn’t always been a good husband. I worked constantly, left her alone for months, and sometimes used money and silence to control arguments. Still, I had never threatened or harmed her. Then I discovered a note she had given our neighbor, Mrs. Alvarez, telling her to claim I wasn’t safe if I asked. The date was one when I had been hundreds of miles away. Click continue reading below