Framed Father's Fierce Flight

ght calls, and the kids were in their rooms, probably video-chatting with Ethan again. I was left with the plates

my grasp. It hit the edge of the granite countertop and shattered, sending shards of thick glass across the tile floor. One large pi

ep, clean cut across my palm, blood welling up instantly and

essing it hard against the wound. The blood soaked

s office and knocke

nference call," her voice came

r. "It's pretty bad. Do you know where

she glared out at me, her headset still on. She glanced at the

be more careful? I'm in the mid

m sorry, I

where it always is," she snapped. "Jus

nal again as she spoke to her colleagues. I stood there for a moment, the throbbing i

d. It needed stitches, I was sure of it, but I just pulled the edges together with butterfly b

st about the phone call. It wasn't about her being busy or stressed. It was about me. I was an inconvenience. A piece of domestic machinery that had malfunctioned and was dis

ervice. And my contract was up. The years of swallowing my pride, of telling myself my sacrifice was for the good

ice door and walked in. She was pacing, deep in her call, gesturing with a pen. She shot me a look

. The silence was

n disbelief. "What the hell do you think you'

my bandaged hand throbbing at my s

voice steady and clea

utter shock. She blinked, as if

ha

divorce,"

uickly as it came, repl

aking her head. "You're just being dramat

t move. I just stood there, waiting, until she was forced to look at me again. The look

she whispered, her vo