“It will heal better if the sutures aren’t pulled too tightly. Knots make them pull.” “How do you know that?” I mutter, “Years of personal experience on my own body.” I’m about to draw away, but he grasps my wrist and holds it, his grip firm but not tight. Startled, I look into his eyes. They’re blazing with emotion. He says gruffly, “I’d like to kill him.” “Who?” “Your husband. If he were still alive, I’d kill him for you. And I wouldn’t make it quick.” That takes my breath away.
