The First Time My Boyfriend Hit Me, My Dad Told Me To Thank Him.

Finding Allies

The next day, I met with Dean Patterson again. I showed her the letter and explained what my father was trying to do.

“I’m handling my own finances now,” I told her.

“I have a job, financial aid. I’m not asking him for anything. I just want him to leave me alone.” I said.

She nodded, her expression sympathetic. “The university doesn’t expel students based on parents’ complaints, Catherine. Your academic record is excellent. You have nothing to worry about.” She said.

I left her office feeling slightly better. At least that avenue of attack was closed to my dad.

The following week, I was studying in the library when Troy walked in. He saw me immediately and started heading my way.

I grabbed my phone, ready to call security, but before he reached me, a campus police officer stepped in front of him. “Mr. Noak, you’re in violation of a restraining order,” The officer said loudly enough for everyone to hear.

“I’m going to have to ask you to leave campus immediately.” The officer said.

Troy’s face flushed with anger. “I’m here to use the library. It’s a public building,” He said.

“Not when you’re violating a court order,” The officer stood firm.

“Leave now or I’ll arrest you.” He said.

Troy glared at me over the officer’s shoulder, then turned and stormed out. I sat there, heart pounding, as the officer approached.

“You okay, miss?” He asked.

I nodded. “How did you know?” I asked.

“We’ve been keeping an eye out. Campus security briefed us on your situation.” He said.

He handed me a card. “Call this number directly if he shows up again.” He said.

For the first time in weeks, I felt like someone was actually on my side. The system was working, at least partially.

No More Running

But that night, someone smashed my dorm room window while Sadie and I were at dinner. Nothing was taken, but a wedding invitation was left on my pillow.

It had my name and Troy’s with a date just two months away. Campus security took it seriously.

They increased patrols around my dorm, installed a security camera in the hallway, and offered to move me to a different building. I declined the move.

I was tired of running, of being driven from place to place by fear. “I’m not letting them win,” I told Sadie.

“Not anymore.” I said.

The next day, I filed for a restraining order against my father. It felt like cutting off a limb, but I knew it was necessary. He had left me no choice.

The hearing was set for the following week. In the meantime, I gathered evidence: the wedding dress, the invitation, the letter to the trustees, and statements from Aunt Kathy and Dean Patterson about his interference.

My dad didn’t show up for the hearing. The judge reviewed my evidence and granted the temporary order, with a follow-up hearing scheduled to make it permanent.

I should have felt relieved; instead, I felt a deep sadness. This was my dad—the man who had raised me, who had once pushed me on swings and taught me to ride a bike before Mom died, before he changed.

One Last Attempt

That evening, I was walking back to my dorm when a car pulled up beside me: my dad’s silver Lexus again. But this time, it was him behind the wheel.

“Catherine,” He called through the open window.

“Please, just five minutes.” He said.

I stopped, keeping my distance. “You’re violating the restraining order.” I said.

“I know.” He said.

He looked tired, older than I remembered. “I just need you to understand. Everything I’ve done, it’s been for your own good.” He said.

I shook my head. “Controlling me isn’t love, Dad. It’s abuse.” I said.

“I’m protecting you!” His voice rose.

“The world is dangerous for young women. Your mother—” He started.

“Don’t.” I cut him off.

“Don’t use Mom to justify this. She would be ashamed of what you’ve become.” I said.

His face hardened. “You don’t know what she would think. You were a child when she died.” He said.

“I know she loved me. Really loved me. Not as a possession, not as an extension of herself, but as a person.” I said.

I took a step back. “I’m calling the police now.” I said.

“Catherine, wait!” He called.

But I was already dialing, already walking away. I didn’t look back.

The police arrived quickly. My dad was gone by then, but I filed another report—another violation, more evidence.

The Final Conflict

That night, I dreamed of my mom again. But this time she wasn’t wearing the wedding dress; she was in jeans and a t-shirt, her hair loose around her shoulders.

She was smiling. “You’re doing great, sweetheart,” She said.

“Keep going.” She said.

I woke up with tears on my face, but they weren’t sad tears. For the first time in months, I felt like I was on the right path.

The next day, I got an email from Troy’s university. I had reported his behavior to their ethics board given his status as a law student.

The email informed me they were conducting an investigation. It was a small victory, but I’d take it.

The Victim Narrative

That afternoon, I was working at the bookstore when Sadie burst in, out of breath. “You need to see this,” She said, thrusting her phone at me.

It was a social media post from Troy, a long, rambling statement about how he was the victim of false accusations. He wrote about how I had manipulated and used him, and how he was fighting for his reputation and future.

And at the end, a chilling line: “Some people won’t be satisfied until they’ve destroyed everything, but I won’t let that happen. One way or another, this ends now.”

I showed it to my manager and explained the situation. She let me leave early and had another employee walk me back to my dorm.

I called Jasper as soon as I got there. “Is this a threat?” I asked as I forwarded him the post.

“It’s vague enough that he could claim it wasn’t directed at you specifically,” Jasper said.

“But given the context, yes, I’d consider it threatening. We should report it.” He said.

I did, adding it to my growing file of evidence. But the post had already done its damage.

People were commenting, taking sides. Some of Troy’s friends were messaging me, calling me a liar and a manipulator.

The online harassment continued for days. I tried to ignore it, focus on my classes and my job, but it was wearing me down.

Then, a week after the post, something changed. Troy’s account went silent. The harassment stopped abruptly.

I found out why when Juniper called me. “Troy’s been arrested,” She said.

“He violated the restraining order again. Someone reported him lurking outside your dorm last night.” She said.

Relief washed over me. “Will they keep him this time?” I asked.

“For a while at least. And with his previous violations, he’s facing serious consequences.” She said.

One threat neutralized, at least temporarily. But my dad was still out there, still angry, still determined to bring me back under his control.