In all of this, he hadn't once considered how I felt. Before, maybe I'd have agreed to help just to keep him happy.
But, at that moment, I had only one response.
A firm, unshakable no.
I gathered my things, preparing for discharge. When he saw me standing up, he panicked and reached out to grab my hand.
In the struggle, I never expected to get cut by the knife he was holding.
Blood trickled down my hand, dripping onto the floor. Only then did Ryan drop the knife and rush over to check my injury.
The anger I felt made me numb to the pain of the wound.
When I yanked my hand back, the sudden motion tugged at my surgical incision, making me wince as I collapsed back onto the floor.
Right then, his phone rang. He glanced at the caller ID, and I saw his face change. Without a word, he bolted from the room, disappearing from my sight and leaving me alone.
It wasn't until a nurse making her rounds found me that someone finally dressed my wound.
