When I woke up, the world had shrunk to a hospital room. My body throbbed with a deep, internal pain, and the only proof of life was the rhythmic beeping of a monitor.
The door burst open and there stood my husband, Caleb Whitmore, not with concern, but with rage. “So you’re finally awake,” he snapped.
Caleb’s accusation of my being a burden was not new. His words, filled with disdain, left me trembling with fear.
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