My boyfriend, Caleb, was my family, my everything, for nearly two decades.
He worked as a security guard for a spoiled tech heiress, Gabrielle, but our Fourth of July plans were finally just for us.
Then a frantic call from his client shattered everything.
Suddenly, we were on a deserted road, fireworks popping in the distance, when a "carjacking" erupted.
As masked men attacked, Caleb didn't hesitate.
He sprinted past me, sacrificing my safety to shield Gabrielle, whispering, "If anything happens to you, I can't live with myself."
His words, and the knife searing my side, were a shock that cut deeper than any blade.
I bled out on the asphalt, while Caleb fussed over Gabrielle's minor scratch.