Obeying
My ex showed up at the ER demanding I come home.
And the head trauma surgeon stepped between us.
My ex was yelling my name so loud, every person in the hospital could hear.
Two weeks ago, he punched a hole through our bedroom door because he said dinner was too cold when he got home.
I finally had enough, and packed as much as I could and left, hoping to never see him again.
Today, I was helping an old man learn how to walk again after surgery, when my ex stormed in the room.
He grabbed my arm and yanked me back so hard that the walker slid out from under my patient’s hands.
The old man stumbled backward and luckily fell perfectly into the chair behind him, but my ex’s grip tightened as he pulled me farther away.
Suddenly, the doors swung open, and the head trauma surgeon walked in so fast his white coat snapped behind him.
His eyes dropped to my ex’s hand wrapped so tight around my arm it was leaving bruises.
His voice went deadly calm,
“Let go of her, or I will break your hand.”
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