In the gritty streets of Chicago, Katie finds herself at a crossroads, torn between her tumultuous past and an uncertain future. Escaping an abusive relationship, she embarks on a journey of self-discovery, determined to carve out a new path for her...
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"I just don't think you should be going back to work so soon," Antonio says, his voice tense as he paces the living room. The dim light from the late afternoon sun filters through the curtains, casting a soft glow over the space. My heart pounds in frustration as we argue, our words bouncing off the walls. I can feel the tension in the air, thick and heavy.
"You went right back to work after being shot," I counter, folding my arms across my chest, my voice rising slightly.
"I didn't have major abdominal surgery," he shoots back, running a hand through his dark hair. "I wasn't intubated, I wasn't held hostage in a warehouse for hours against my will. My heart didn't sto—" He trails off, his voice breaking. He can't even finish the sentence.
My chest tightens as I watch him struggle to say the words. The memory of what he went through flashes in my mind. I reach out to him, wanting to ease his burden, but the frustration bubbling inside me is too strong.
"But I'm fine," I insist, stepping closer to him. The warmth of the wooden floor beneath my feet grounds me, but it doesn't soften the edge in my voice. "I'm not mentally unstable, I just want to get back to work."
Antonio rubs his temples, sighing heavily as he sits down on the couch. His strong shoulders sag under the weight of his worry. "I just want you to be safe and healthy," he murmurs, looking up at me with eyes full of love and concern.
"And I am," I say, my voice softer this time. I walk over to him and gently perch on his lap, my fingers threading through his hair. His familiar scent of cologne and the faint hint of coffee fills my senses, calming me. "I'm safe and healthy, but I'm unhappy being cooped up inside and babied. I'm ready to go back to work."
He closes his eyes for a moment, pressing a kiss to my cheek. "I love you," he whispers, his breath warm against my skin.
"I love you too," I reply, my heart swelling at the intimacy of the moment.
He pauses, his hands resting on my waist. When he speaks again, his voice is low and filled with emotion. "When you weren't answering your phone that day, I started to get so worried," he admits, his grip tightening slightly. "I just needed to hear your voice, to know that you were okay."
I brush a hand down his cheek, trying to soothe him. "It's over now. I'm here with you," I whisper, though I know deep down that the fear still lingers in him.
But Antonio isn't ready to let it go. "Then seeing you in the hospital," he continues, his voice trembling, "knowing what you went through but not understanding—"
"You don't need to worry," I start, but he shakes his head.
"Don't say you're fine, Katie. Just let me finish," he says with a small smile, already knowing what I was going to say. It's my go-to phrase whenever someone asks how I am.
