“Hey,” he says, turning me to face him. He sees the tears on my face, the terror in my eyes. He loosens his grip, and as soon as he does, I run. I run down the hall, down the stairs, and I don’t stop until I slam the bedroom door and I’m back on my bed.
Girl…if I was Jeremy, I would fire you like you are too much to deal with and now I find you running from my comatose wife’s room in a frenzy like you just murdered her or did something else weird like I don’t trust you with all that. Why can’t you just do your job and move on ugh
