Thirty-four weeks pregnant, I woke to my husband screaming “Fire!” in the middle of the night. Terrified, I rushed downstairs—only to discover it was a cruel prank, a joke he played with his friends, knowing I had deep trauma from a childhood house fire.

Shaken and betrayed, I called my dad, who immediately came to get me. That night, I left my husband. The next morning, I filed for divorce.He broke my trust, mocked my fears, and risked my mental and physical well-being while I carried our child. I chose to protect myself and my baby over staying with someone who thought my pain was funny.